The Orphan's Secret

by R. J. Francis

  “They say people change when they fall in love, but you’ve gone positively insane.”

  Elaina settled down, rested her cheek on the bed, and stared at Alessa. “Seriously, why didn’t you ever tell me you were a princess?”

  “Elaina,” she said, “it’s too early for this conversation.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you until noon to answer.”

  Alessa sighed. “At least let me wash my face.” She reached her arms high above her head, stretching her muscles as far as they would go. Then she flipped over onto her stomach and stretched out again. When Alessa finally got out of bed, Elaina followed her to the washroom and watched her wash up and brush the tangles out of her hair.

  She wondered when Alessa was going to find her own prince. Alessa, though highly eligible and phenomenally attractive in so many ways, must have forgone pursuing any love interests because she had someone else’s child to look after every day! What an enormous sacrifice, Elaina thought. These sobering thoughts tempered Elaina’s giddy mood.

  Alessa walked past Elaina, lay back down on the bed and gazed dreamily out the window. “I haven’t felt much like a princess in many years,” Alessa said.

  When Alessa didn’t expand on her statement, Elaina simply said, “I’m sorry.” She thought she might get Alessa talking if she mentioned her dream about the ceremony on the beach. “Let me tell you about a dream I had. I think it was about Celmarea.” Alessa listened with keen interest; Elaina rarely discussed her dreams. “I was flying over the ocean,” Elaina began, and she recounted the whole tale.

  She concluded: “And the water shot up, and I feared the worst.”

  Alessa was giggling.

  Elaina glared at her. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “It was a frightening dream. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’ll never tell you my dreams.”

  Alessa did her best to suppress her amusement. “It’s just that you put such a morbid spin on the story at the end. I don’t know where you came up with that. But really, Elaina, it’s amazing you remember all those details.”

  “You mean it actually happened?”

  “Of course it did. That night was one of the happiest nights of my life. It was the night of my first kiss—which is another story entirely. I was fifteen years old.”

  “You were the youngest princess up there that day, weren’t you?”

  Alessa gave this some thought. Then, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, she responded, “No, Elaina, you were.”

  Elaina held her breath and her eyes got big. Alessa monitored Elaina’s reaction, deciding whether she should reveal more or wait.

  “I was the baby girl wrapped in the golden blanket! I knew it! You must have been one of the teenage princesses,” Elaina said.

  “Yes.”

  “And who was the other teenage princess?” Elaina asked, suppressing her excitement the best she could.

  “That was my sister, Alethea.”

  Elaina’s eyes couldn’t possibly open any wider. She found it tough to stay calm, but she knew if she got too excited Alessa would surely clam up.

  “And the woman who carried the babies?”

  “That was your beautiful mother. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her. She looked a lot like you, except that she had long hair.”

  Elaina had to keep the questions coming. “And the three older princesses?”

  “One was my mother, one was your grandmother, and the eldest was the mother of the boy who’d kissed me—oh, he was fine Elaina…”

  Huge chunks of Elaina’s life story were falling into place, and she remembered how the queen had told her to stay strong. “Who was the other baby?” Elaina asked next. “Was the other baby the eighth princess? Do I have a… sister?”

  “I think we’ve learned enough this morning,” said Alessa, sitting up. “In fact, I’m cancelling all our lessons today. I think we should go for a walk after breakfast instead.”

  Elaina, true to form, didn’t push. She had more questions, of course, but now she also had some answers. Answers she needed time to absorb. “Wow. Wow. Just… wow,” Elaina said.

  “I will tell you one more thing,” Alessa said. “You may have been frightened of the sea water in your dream, but the water tower ritual is a lovely and perfectly harmless display that we used in many of our ceremonies. Your grandmother was the lady holding you up. And the night was warm. We always held presentations in the summer.”

  Elaina threw her arms around her guardian. “Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sorry for teasing you about the crown.”

  “It never left any marks,” said Alessa. “One of these days I’ll show it to you.”

  “There’s something else,” Elaina said. She ran out to her room, grabbed the mysterious note from her desk drawer, and came back and showed it to Alessa. “This,” she said. “What does it say?”

  “Surely you can read it,” Alessa said.

  “Come on,” Elaina said. “It’s in a completely foreign language.”

  “It’s in your language.”

  “No more teasing, please. See, you’re not even looking at it—you know what it says. You know exactly what this says, don’t you?”

  Alessa kept looking into Elaina’s eyes, and not at the note. “Sweetheart, if you can’t read it,” Alessa said, “it’s just not time.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Jaimin arrived that night, Elaina told him everything she had found out. “You—a princess!” he said. “I should be surprised by this, but I’m not.”

  “Thanks for saying that. I hope this doesn’t sound prideful, but it wasn’t much of a shock to me, either. Once I found out I was Celmarean, it made sense to me why I’ve always felt different, and why I’ve never felt the need to socialize with Arrans my age. I’ve spent all day thinking about what my role is to be now.”

  “If you’re a princess, you’re still their leader. The survivors of Celmarea.”

  “I know. I’ve never even met them, Jem. Would they even accept me? Do they even need a leader?”

  “You should ask Alessa.”

  “She’ll help me, I’m sure. A little bit at a time, though. That’s her style. But you, Jem. You must teach me all you know about leadership.”

  “Well, for me, leadership is complicated,” he said. “More than it should be, probably. So… maybe I’m not the best person to learn from. At least not right now… I mean…” His views on leadership were muddied by his cynicism, his strained relationship with his father, and his apprehension as to what Arran commoners thought of him.

  “I think I understand,” she told him.

  “How did we miss that my mother and Alessa are sisters?” he asked.

  Elaina got up to make hot ginger milk, and they spoke about all the clues they had overlooked suggesting the queen and Alessa were related. Then, coddling their steaming mugs, they sat down before the fire on a pile of comfortable bolsters and fleece pelts.

  “I asked my father why he wouldn’t let you and Alessa into the castle,” said Jaimin.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said we were all safer without the two of you. I pressed him on why, and he told me if I didn’t drop the subject he would exile you both.”

  “Oh, well, I’m certainly glad you dropped the subject.”

  Jaimin was silent.

  “You did drop the subject, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “I did. I wanted to stand up to him, but I was worried he would follow through.”

  “Do you think he’s afraid because I killed Tran?” she asked.

  “Maybe. I bet he thinks if we get into an argument, you’ll do the same to me.”

  “Well, you’d think he’d be just as afraid of your mother, then. I bet her abilities are much stronger than mine.”

  “They are,” said Jaimin.

  “Of course, you know I could never hurt you.”

  “I’d never give you a reason to try.”

  Elaina reached to set her mug on a side ta
ble. “You don’t speak much about your father,” she said.

  “He and I don’t speak much.”

  “Was it always like that?”

  “As long as I can remember, he’s been distant, unapproachable,” said Jaimin. “He’s often lost in his thoughts.”

  “Thoughts of what?”

  “Of the war. It’s always on his mind. My mother tries to distract him from his worries, but he’s wearing her out.”

  “Poor man,” Elaina said. “I wish I could talk to him—thank him for what he tried to do for us, even though I wasn’t old enough to remember.”

  “Maybe one of these days he’ll listen. I wonder if my father ever met your father. You say you know nothing about your parents?”

  “Well, actually, now I know a little. I know my mother was a princess, and I’ve even seen her in a dream—she looked like me except she had longer hair, and she wore it a bit differently.”

  “But Alessa knows everything!” Jaimin said. “And it sounds like she’s finally ready to tell you. Keep asking her. Find out what your parents were like. You know your mom was a princess, so I bet your dad was someone important too.”

  “I’ll ask her. I will.” They pondered their parents as they watched the flickering flames.

  “If my father ever exiles you, I’ll leave with you. I won’t stay here,” the prince said.

  “But this is your home,” she said. “Aren’t you in line to lead?”

  “My mother can run the kingdom. And Tori will make a fine ruler when she’s old enough.”

  “Don’t you want to be king one day? Eventually?”

  Jaimin seemed bothered by the question.

  “I’m sorry, I…”

  “Don’t be. It’s a fair question. The truth is, I don’t need to be praised. I don’t need a title.”

  “You don’t think you have a duty to your people?”

  “Of course I have a duty to my people.”

  “But you don’t want to be king?”

  “When I was a boy, I couldn’t wait to be king. Nastasha and I used to role play. She’d play a petitioner or a minister, bringing me issues that needed resolution. We even made our own throne room in the attic vault where the extra furniture is stored. I’d sit up on my makeshift throne, and I’d always come up with the perfect solution—no matter how long it took. We stopped that game when we became too busy with school. But, as the years passed, I started to see what our kingdom’s real problems are—our biggest challenges—and I realized my father doesn’t have a clue how to address them. And if he doesn’t have a clue, how am I going to? I guess I’ve lost faith in the future.”

  “But you can’t lose faith,” she said. “Maybe you’ll find the solutions your father can’t see.”

  “And how will I learn to defend myself? And those I love?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My father won’t let me near any of the military camps. He won’t let me attend defense briefings. He lets me shoot for sport, but he’s never let me have lessons in combat. He’s afraid I’ll go off on a hero’s quest like he did when he went to save you. His fear is holding him back, but it’s also holding me back. And it’s dangerous for all of us.”

  “Well, I think you would make a fine king,” she declared. “And maybe I can help you work through these issues with your father.”

  “Thanks. I really don’t want to end up like him. I don’t want to lose faith.”

  She touched his left temple and sank her fingers into his hair, and then she circled her fingertips behind his ear and dropped them to caress his neck.

  “Whenever you can’t find the strength to believe in yourself, believe in me,” she said.

  “I feel stronger when you’re close to me,” he said.

  “Then I’ll just have to stay this close forever,” she said. Gently, she pried his mug from his hand and set it on the floor. Sliding her hand up behind his head, she eased him down flat and climbed on top of him, peering into his glossy eyes to see what she could do to please him. There were many things she could do, but that night Jaimin would only get a sample.

  With the arrival of desire, their conversation had ended. They shared a romantic silence for an hour, exploring each other further, indulging their sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch, but never exceeding the reasonable limits dictated by their Arran culture and by their innate sense of Areu. Spaces had opened up in Jaimin’s soul, and Elaina filled each one as if she were the only key to a complicated lock. There were many uncertainties in the prince’s life, but Elaina was not one of them. When they had tested their capacity for restraint long enough, she massaged his shoulders and chest to calm his heart, and, as the fire died, they fell asleep.

  The next day, after school, Jaimin sent for Nastasha, and they went up to the room in the attic where Jaimin used to play king. She sat in the dusty old chair that Jaimin used to pretend was his throne. He sat near her on a stool. There, by the light of a single lamp, he told her Elaina was a princess.

  “You knew from the start she was special,” she said, after absorbing the news.

  “Of course she’s special. She’s wonderful! Princess or not.”

  “I suppose.” She spotted a clump of dust on her dress and brushed it off. “She’ll be good for you.”

  “You mean you approve?”

  “You don’t need my approval. I said she’ll be good for you.”

  “I know she will. And guess who else is a princess?”

  “Me?”

  “No, Alessa is. She’s my mother’s sister—my aunt.”

  “Of course!”

  “Surprise! But you’ve met her—I still haven’t. Does she look like my mother?”

  “Quite a bit, actually.”

  “Alessa and Elaina should both be living here in the castle. They’re targets out there.”

  “Your father won’t have that,” Nastasha said. “He’s afraid of Elaina. She reminds him of the war. Maybe they’re safer in the woods. They’ve survived this long.”

  “Have you forgotten? I was nearly killed in those woods.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  To Jaimin’s surprise, Alessa answered the door when he arrived that evening. The first few seconds were awkward for both of them, but Alessa quickly took command of the moment. “Ah, you must be my lovesick nephew,” she said. “Elaina will be down soon. She has supper ready for you, but you’ll have to wait. Would you like some water or juice?”

  He came inside. She brought out water and juice and they sat on the couch and waited for Elaina. “Has Elaina warned you about me?” Alessa asked him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind. You’ll find out.”

  “Well, I certainly appreciate you putting me on edge as soon as I walk in the door,” he quipped.

  “We learn best when we’re on edge. Focused on the moment, ready for anything…”

  “Is there something I’m supposed to learn?”

  “Many things,” she said, leaning in close, making him feel even more uncomfortable. She looked so much like his mother, but there was something more aggressive in the way her eyes searched his soul. “You’re far behind,” she said. “Do you consider yourself a Celmarean?”

  “That’s my heritage, but I’m an Arran.”

  “Wrong,” she said. “Wrong, wrong, wrong. You may have been born here, and your father is a mainlander, but Celmarean blood always dominates. Before you know it, you’ll be in Kalmise, and your Celmarean ‘heritage’ will permeate your body, mind, and spirit.”

  “What? I thought only girls went through Kalmise.”

  “Men do, too. And most boys spend their entire childhood preparing. Your father made your mother swear a vow not to practice her ways. Looks like she’s only told you a tiny sliver of what you need to know.”

  Actually, Jaimin thought, it was Elaina who had told him about Kalmise. “And… and how are you able to speak so freely about these things?” he asked. “Didn’t the king forbid you?”
>
  “Let me worry about that,” she said.

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  Alessa grinned. “You can relax, dear. I think you and I will get along fine. Welcome to my house. I’ve watched you grow up; now, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

  Jaimin wanted to know more about Kalmise—what he was in for. Alessa told him all she could before Elaina came downstairs.

  After dinner, Alessa went upstairs and into seclusion as usual.

  “So that’s Alessa,” Elaina said, joining Jaimin on the couch. She wore a loose white shirt and a brown skirt.

  “My mind hurts. Does she always make people feel that way?” Jaimin asked.

  “Only people she loves. Consider yourself lucky. She’ll challenge your soul and reveal that there’s more to you than anyone thought possible.”

  “What if she finds out there isn’t any more to me?” he asked.

  “Oh, there is, Jem,” Elaina said. “There always is.”

  She found his confused look so irresistibly attractive that she couldn’t hold back: she pounced on him and pinned him down, kissing him deeply until he had no idea which way was up. Within minutes she had his shirt off, and had he not stopped her she would have torn off the rest of his clothing.

  “Where’s the Areu?” she asked him. “I thought there was supposed to be a limit?”

  “Maybe there isn’t one in our case,” he said.

  “We’d be expected to wed,” she said, “and that can’t happen for six months, by the custom.”

  “By Arran custom. What’s the island custom?”

  “I don’t know. But we’d better behave ourselves until we find out.”

  He flipped her over so he was on top of her now. Pressing his body to hers, he gently cradled her head in his hands and kissed her neck, her ear… The sweet smell of her hair and skin was driving him mad. “Let’s just check again for that limit. You tell me if you feel something.”

  “Oh, I feel something.”

  They wore themselves out testing their capacity for restraint. An hour later, they fell asleep in a pile on the floor by the fire.

  Elaina had another dream. This time she dreamed of the sea.

  She dreamed she was on the forecastle of an Arran warship, like the ones she’d seen in port. The night was clear and windy, and although the ship was massive, it was bucking three-meter swells, making for a dizzying ride. Three Arran sailors manned the helm; others were adjusting the mainsail, and a few others with strong stomachs were scanning the sea from the sail tops.