by Sarah Olson
He was much older than the general was. He was bald and had a trimmed gray beard.
All eyes were on me awaiting my answer.
“I—we had to leave,” I answered quietly, keeping my eyes on the stone. “King Luther’s men were after us.”
“They were trying to kill you?” the general asked. “Where are the Fallons?”
“She was alone when we found her, Sir,” Sir Alexander said. “She was traveling on Avalanche Pass.”
General Hamilton looked at me expectantly.
“They killed,” I began, but paused to take a breath, “Robert Fallon.”
Charlotte put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
“Why were they after you?” the general asked, not missing a beat.
“They found out I was the princess,” I replied, wondering why he would ask such an obvious question.
“They found out?” he scoffed. “That secret was kept for sixteen years and they suddenly found out?”
I could hear the anger and frustration building in his voice.
“Would you care to explain to me just how the king found out?”
I did not answer but another soft squeeze from Charlotte told me I should.
“I told the prince,” I whispered quietly.
Everything in the tent stopped and everyone stared. I could feel the general’s gaze searing through my flesh as anger radiated from every inch of him.
“You what?” he yelled. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“James,” the bald man warned.
General Hamilton took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “I’m going to ask once more, why would you tell them who you are?”
If I could have decided when I wanted to die, that would have been the time for it. I wanted to cry because I thought it might make them pity me, but tears refused to come as they had done from the moment I began to climb the mountain.
“I told him,” I whispered. “Because I . . . I’m . . .”
“What?” he asked again.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
He leaned down so his face was directly in front of mine. “And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess he is the father.”
A scar ran from the outside of his right eyebrow to his cheekbone. I focused on the line of his cleanly-shaven jaw to avoid his eyes.
I nodded again.
“Well, there you have it,” he said, standing and spreading his arms as if he was addressing an audience. “This is what happens when you leave the Fallons in charge of raising the princess.”
“How dare you?” I snapped, standing up and pushing Charlotte’s hand away. “Robert Fallon gave his life protecting me!”
“Protecting you from death but not from the prince’s chambers,” the general said. “You can argue with me all you want, but it’s a waste of time. Especially now, because now I’m going to have to clean up this mess. Get out.” He pointed to the exit as he bit his last words. “Now!” he yelled, when I did not move.
He was backed by a low growl emitted by the wolf.
“Come on, Layla,” Charlotte said, leading me out quickly.
“Charlotte, find her a place to live,” he said as we left.
“James,” I heard, the voice of the bald man say, “she is just a child.”
“She stopped being one as soon as she lay with the prince,” the general snapped.
People stared as we re-entered the village and Charlotte led me quickly to a small cottage a short walk away.
“Am I going crazy, or was there a wolf in that tent?” I asked, still shaken.
“It’s James’ pet wolf,” Charlotte laughed nervously.
I stopped. “Charlotte, I saw Tristan.”
“What? Where?”
“In the palace. I am afraid he will run into trouble with the king should he learn he helped me escape.”
“Did anyone see you with him?”
“I do not think so.”
Charlotte nodded grimly. “I will let my father know, but for now, do not worry about it.” We stopped in front of the cottage. “The widow Lamia Hopkins lives here, I’m sure she‘ll take you in.”
“Why can’t I just stay with you?” I asked with desperation.
“Because my family doesn’t have a spare room.” Charlotte stopped walking
and looked at me. “I know these aren’t exactly the best circumstances but believe me when I say it is good to see you.”
I smiled. “It’s good to see you too.”
Charlotte hugged me and led me to Mrs. Hopkins’ small house. She stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the door.
“I’m coming!” Mrs. Hopkins called.
I heard movement inside and then the door opened.
Mrs. Hopkins was the most kind and gentle woman I had ever met. She had long gray hair which she pulled into a tight bun, and wore a light colored dress with an apron. Her small brown eyes hid behind spectacles as she squinted at us in the bright sunlight.
“Charlotte!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “What brings you here?”
“This is Layla, Princess Layla,” Charlotte said, gesturing to me. “She is King Hector and Queen Aria’s daughter—the one we’ve been waiting for.”
“Bless my soul!” Mrs. Hopkins exclaimed. “It is a pleasure to meet you. This is such an unexpected surprise!”
I smiled.
“She needs a place to stay and I remembered you have a spare room,” Charlotte continued. “Would you mind if she stayed here?”
“Well of course she can!” she replied, pulling us both in through the door. “And my dear Princess, you look awful! Come and sit! I just made some hot soup.”
I sat down at the kitchen table as she busied herself pouring some steaming soup into a bowl.
“So,” she began, as she placed it in front of me. “You are the princess, the one we’ve been waiting for.”
I nodded trying not to seem desperate as the first spoonful of soup spilled over my tongue. I was famished!
“Has she seen the general?” Mrs. Hopkins asked.
“Yes,” Charlotte said as I grimaced. “But, we’d rather not talk about that now.”
“Did he lose his temper again?” she asked Charlotte, shaking her head.
“You can say that,” Charlotte replied.
“That boy is unbelievable. I used to watch him as a child, you know. He was so sweet. But, then again, everyone was sweet when King Hector ruled.”
“Well, we all know the pressure he is under now,” Charlotte said, watching me gulp down the soup. “Things aren’t as easy as they used to be.”
“Yes, his father was around then,” Mrs. Hopkins said, sadly shaking her head.
“Where’s he now?” I asked, after swallowing another mouthful.
“He’s dead, dear,” she replied, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Killed in an ambush last year while they were riding through the Maplewood Forest.”
I felt a pain in my heart as I thought of Robert being shot down—the same pain the general must have felt when his father died.
“That’s the only reason we have such a young general,” Mrs. Hopkins continued. “He took his father’s place after his death.”
“His father was the general?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “General Conrad Hamilton. He was such a wonderful man. He was the general of your father’s army. It was terrible to lose him.”
This must have been the Conrad that Betsy and Robert had mentioned that night when they spoke to Mitchell.
“Either way,” I said. “It doesn’t justify my treatment.”
“What exactly made him so upset?” Mrs. Hopkins asked. “I thought the return of our princess would raise his spirits.”
Charlotte looked at me questioningly to see whether I wanted her to say anything.
I hesitantly nodded in response.
“Layla is . . . with child,” Charlotte said.
“Where is the father? I didn�
��t know the princess had married,” Mrs. Hopkins said.
My cheeks burned. “I’m not,” I whispered.
Realization crossed Mrs. Hopkins’s face. “I see.”
I suddenly feared that she would throw me out.
“Well,” she said suddenly, “we all make mistakes, right?”
I blinked back in surprise. She was very quick to comfort, not scorn like so many other people I knew would and I was grateful.
“Yes, except,” Charlotte continued, “the father is Prince Richard, King Luther’s son and heir.”
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed, placing her hand over her heart. “That does quite complicate things. However, despite the situation, I am sure his wrath was completely unacceptable!”
“It was,” I said into my soup.
“You’re right,” Charlotte said. “He should not have handled it the way he did, but you must understand the circumstances. The people here have put their hope and faith into the princess who survived, but to know Luther’s own blood is going to be running through the veins of that child is heartbreaking.”
A tear slid down my cheek. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” I whispered. “He said he loved me, and I loved him, still do . . .” I gently shook my head, “He asked to marry me and we got carried away.” The tears came more steadily now. “When I told him I was pregnant, he said it would be okay, that we would marry quickly.”
“But then he found out who you really were . . .” Charlotte trailed off.
“Betsy and Robert tried to warn me, but they didn’t know what to do!”
“They should have brought you here earlier,” Mrs. Hopkins said.
“They weren’t supposed to bring her for another two years,” Charlotte said.
“Then why not separate you from the prince?” Mrs. Hopkins asked.
“They didn’t know I was seeing him,” I whispered.
We stayed silent for a few minutes.
“Where’s Betsy?” Charlotte asked. “Does she know what they did to Robert?”
I shook my head. “She’s in the Harvest Plains. She was very sick and the town’s physician said she needed to go to a warmer climate until the winter was over.”
“I’m so sorry Layla,” Charlotte said, hugging me.
A knock sounded at the door and Mrs. Hopkins opened it. The older man from the tent stood there and bowed his head in greeting.
“Lamia,” he said and then turned to me. “I just came to bring General James Hamilton’s apology. He was unaware Sir Alexander found you close to death on the mountain and that he would have been easier on you had he known.”
“Close to death?” Mrs. Hopkins asked, placing her hands on her face in shock.
“Yes,” he answered. “They said they found her unconscious in the snow.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mrs. Hopkins exclaimed. “Charlotte, will you help me get a hot bath going?”
“Yes, of course,” Charlotte said jumping up.
Mrs. Hopkins ran around the small kitchen in a frenzy trying to make me feel better. She would not understand that I felt much better since that day they found me. The only thing sore were my muscles and joints, so I did not protest the hot bath. It was wonderful.
Chapter 18
THE HOT WATER was soothing and being able to scrub the dirt off of myself was refreshing. When I finished, I wrapped myself in a warm towel, happy to be feeling clean again.
“Here you go,” Mrs. Hopkins said, as she laid fresh sheets on the guest bed.
“Will this work?” Charlotte asked, coming in through the door with clean undergarments, a simple tan dress and an old coat.
“Yes, and thank you for lending it to me,” I said. “It’s beyond perfect.”
I put them on and sighed. It felt good to rid myself of the traveling clothes I had worn for days.
“I’ll leave you two to talk now,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “I’m sure you have much to catch up on.”
I watched her as she left the room closing the door softly behind her.
“Layla,” Charlotte sighed, “what happened after I left?”
“So many things,” I replied. “Things I never thought could.”
“Tell me everything.”
I began with the night of the ball. I told her how beautiful I felt and how Prince Richard had asked me to dance. How he told me he liked me and came to visit all the time. I told her how Betsy and Robert were furious when they found out I had been seeing him but invited him to dinner.
“Everything went so well,” I said. “And Robert and Betsy were beginning to accept him. Then we went on a picnic together and when he proposed, everything got out of hand. I was not thinking, Charlotte, and I know that now. I just got so caught up in this fairy tale I wanted so badly.”
Charlotte wrapped her arm around me. “We all make mistakes, Layla. But you are with child now and you need to make sure you put aside everything that happened so you can be a good mother.”
“I know,” I said. “And I will. While I regret my actions, I would never wish this child away. This baby is a part of me now—nothing can change that. I just keep worrying about the way people will view me. I slept with a man out of wedlock and that will stay with me forever.”
“Layla, you can’t let what people think of you bring you down.”
I smiled weakly. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I want to know what’s been happening with you. Mitchell told me he fancies you.”
Charlotte laughed. “He does, but the feeling is not mutual.”
“Why not?” I asked surprised.
“I just don’t feel that way for him—at least not now.”
“He’s very nice,” I said. “You should give him a chance.”
“Maybe one day when I’m ready for something like that,” she sighed.
We stayed quiet for a moment and then she said, “Well, I think I should go. You need your rest. I’ll be by tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you then,” I said. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Charlotte stood and left the room.
I looked around, taking the room in for the first time. It was small and cozy. All the furniture was solid wood as well as the thick walls. One window looked out into the bustling street and another to the cottage next door. I piled the blankets and quilts Mrs. Hopkins had left around me for warmth. I watched the street as people walked back and forth with children or carts of goods.
I sat there for hours watching the sunlight in the street dim as it disappeared behind the mountains. I tried to think of everything except for how I was going to survive here. Mrs. Hopkins was nice, Charlotte was still my friend, but that was it. The general hated me, which was perfect, and then there was Mitchell—I hoped I could consider him a friend.
The door opened and Mrs. Hopkins scurried in carrying a tray with warm bread, soup and hot tea. “I thought you’d be hungry by now,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile as she set it down on my lap.
“Enjoy!”
“Wait,” I called out before she left the room. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, dear,” she replied, sitting down.
I swallowed and looked at her. “What is this rebellion about? Avenging the death of my parents?”
She shook her head. “It’s not just about them,” she said. “I don’t mean they weren’t loved by their people, but it’s not the only reason. It’s about justice. King Luther is a very cruel man. You said Mrs. Fallon went to the Harvest Plains?”
I nodded.
“When she comes back, she will tell you about the horrible things she saw. When your parents ruled, nobles owned and ran the different provinces of Asteria. When Luther took over, he kept things running the same way except he added Maplewood Forest to the land he already had as a noble so he could rule over it directly.”
“Yes,” I said, remembering the history Robert had taught me about Asteria. “None of the nobles ever wanted Maplewood Forest or the mountains
because it isn’t good farmland.”
Mrs. Hopkins nodded. “Well, since all the other land is good for farming and livestock, the nobles need people to work it. So, they force all of the farmers and peasants there to work for them. Luther has given the nobles complete control of the land as long as they pay their taxes to the crown. Because of this, they charge those living on their land rent, not taking into account the taxes Luther already imposes on them.”
“Don’t they get paid for their work?” I asked. Richard had said they did.
“They do,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “But it’s only enough to pay their rent, taxes, and put some food on the table since they can’t eat what they harvest unless they buy it.”
“That’s awful,” I whispered as I finally began to understand why Robert and Betsy hated King Luther so much. And to think I went to the Autumn Ball to celebrate the Harvest. “Why don’t they just move?”
“It’s expensive.”
“But if they went to Maplewood Forest, they could escape that injustice. There aren’t many farms and you can own land.”
“Layla,” Mrs. Hopkins said, “despite the injustice in the Harvest Plains and throughout the south, it is still cheaper to live there. Owning land and paying taxes in the area of Maplewood Forest is much more expensive. I’m sure you have known people that have been forced to move south because of it.”
She was right, I did. Robert and Betsy had friends that had lost their homes when they could not afford them.
“Eagle’s Nest is also a merchant based town and there aren’t many jobs. Unless you are very rich, you cannot get by living there without a job. Down south, there is plenty of work to go around. Your trade must be needed in a town like Eagle’s Nest to thrive.”
“Like my aunt being a seamstress?” I asked.
"Yes," Mrs. Hopkins said. "You are very lucky to have been able to live in that part of the kingdom.”
I had never thought of any of this is in such a way. It had never occurred to me how much better off we must have been in comparison to so many other people.
A thought suddenly struck me. “Mrs. Hopkins, when King Luther was a noble under my father, he ran the land east of Maplewood Forest which isn’t farming land and wasn’t very big. How did he manage to put himself above all the nobles and become king? Why didn’t one of the wealthier nobles from the Harvest Plains take over instead?”