“If you are talking to me, I have no idea what you are saying.”
A garble of coos mixed with what might have been words warbled back at her.
Alexandra found herself smiling at the little fellow, and he smiled back showing his small rows of tiny white teeth. His babyish charm enchanted her.
“What am I supposed to do with you, little man?” she asked him.
He didn’t seem interested in answering and warbled babyish things, pointed at various objects in the room, exclaimed, “En gat!” looked at her with one curious eyebrow raised, and cooed to himself before letting his eyes wander again.
After a while, he grew fussy. Alexandra swung him back and forth on her knees, holding him at a distance. Still, he did not quiet down.
Anxiously, she swung him back and forth a little faster, hoping he would quiet down but to no avail. He grew louder.
Desperately she looked around for anyone who could help her. No one was even looking in her direction.
Where is Taleon? He should be done by now. We have been here all morning!
Almost frantic, she tried to distract him. But he only raised his little head and wailed all the louder.
Unexpectedly a larger set of hands enclosed around hers. “Let me take him,” it was Taleon.
“You won’t get him quiet either.”
“Just let me have him for a minute,” he said softly.
Alexandra pulled her hands away, frustrated.
Taleon took the baby, wrapped the blanket closely about him, and, swaying very softly as he walked. Hummed a little tune beneath his breath.
In a minute the baby had stopped his crying and pillowed his head on Taleon’s shoulder with a last feeble cry.
She was infuriated!
I could have done that. You big show-off, I have never held a baby; how was I to know he was tired! YOU! I could just hate you! The next moment she was wondering why she didn’t hate him.
The little fellow’s eyelids had drooped shut under Taleon’s supervision, and in a few minutes, Taleon was laying the infant beside a thin peasant woman who looked worn out in body and soul. She smiled as the baby was laid by her side. Alexandra watched as her transparent hands pulled the sleeping bundle close, and she kissed the top of his curly head. A sudden longing for her own mother came over her and thoughts of the curly brown haired man flooded her mind. Should she call the man in her memory King Aric? He looked so exactly like him. Mentally she compared the man in her memory with her father. They were so different, yet there were similarities that she couldn’t deny even if she wouldn’t admit them.
It’s not King Aric in my memory; it is my father. It has to be.
Alexandra shoved her father into the memory, making it him whose shoulders she rode on, him whom she laughed at. It was he who kissed her mother and whispered “Alexandra” in her ear. The dream crumbled into a failure. Her father had never done any of those things with her; ever. She realized Taleon was standing in front of her and saying something. He looked at her expecting an answer.
“I am sorry; what did you say?”
Taleon smiled.
She could almost glare at him for that.
“We missed the midday meal, we were so busy. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then let’s head to the kitchen. They should have something for us to eat.”
“The kitchen?” She had never gone in the kitchen before. That was the place for servants.
“Follow me,” he said with a nod of his head.
It seemed another labyrinth of various hallways before they reached the kitchen. Taleon entered without ceremony.
“Hello, Cook!”
“Greetings Taleon, my friend. I thought I would see you.”
Taleon chuckled, “Well, you were right. But I am going to need two bowls today. We have a guest.”
“Two bowls of stew coming right away.”
In a few minutes, Taleon and Alexandra were seated side by side with carved wooden bowls of stew in front of them.
Curiously she prodded her victuals with a spoon. It seemed riddled with unfamiliar food, strange blocks of white and orange and squares of something thin and transparent floated about in it.
“What are these?” she asked in a delicate whisper, pointing at the orange and white objects.
“Potatoes and carrots,” he said casually.
“Root vegetables?”
“Yes,” he answered carelessly.
“Root vegetables are for peasants!” she uttered harshly under her breath.
“You ate gruel, and that is only fit for swine,” he said all too casually.
Alexandra’s face flamed red. Her ears hurt from the burning. She wanted to kick Taleon, but that was unladylike. Even if he couldn’t be a gentleman, at least she could be a princess. How low was she brought? What would her father say if he could see her now? His precious daughter was sitting in a kitchen with the servants eating a stew with peasant vegetables! He would fume at the thought. Taleon would be dead for treating her so. At that thought, she smiled.
With the thoughts of her father, the earlier dilemma returned: the haunting memory of the brown-haired man. The soft words, “Goodbye, my Cassie,” rang in her mind, refusing to be Alexandra. She tried to imagine her father saying those words, but with no success at all. It was always the brown-haired man who looked like King Aric.
Why am I calling him King Aric? He isn’t a king he is an impostor who claims he is my father. How much time will they waste before they realize I won’t buy it?
Finding her own thoughts disconcerting, she pushed them aside to find out what was going on in this busy kitchen.
“What is going on down in the valley?” asked the man who had served them the two bowls of stew.
“According to the scouts, it’s pretty hard. The drought is harming everyone,” sighed Taleon.
“How soon will we be ready to fight?”
“Soon, maybe as soon as King Aric comes back.”
“That can’t come soon enough. I’ll never forget what it was like in the valley. I can only imagine it’s gotten worse with that tyrant Archibald the impostor sittin’ pretty on the throne. The sooner he is off it and King Aric back where he belongs, I’ll be happy. The world will be right again.”
Taleon glanced uneasily at Alexandra, but she seemed too weary and preoccupied to cause trouble or take offense.
“I know. I just hope we are as ready as we think we are.”
“Oh we are,” replied the cook confidently, stirring something mysterious in a pot. “Taleon, would you like some bread with that?”
“Yes, thank you.”
To Alexandra’s surprise, a small loaf of brown bread came flying from the cook’s hand towards her and Taleon. He caught it with his left hand, pulled his dagger out with his right, and sliced the bread easily in half. Taleon pushed the second half toward her, sopping his half in the stew.
Alexandra looked at him, puzzled. He smiled as he took a bite of the soggy bread. She let a shiver climb up her back with a good shake at the end.
It’s bad enough to be eating in the kitchen, but to sop your bread like that! I shall never stoop that low. I hope. These peasant vegetables aren’t bad, but if I die suddenly, I’ll know who is to blame: Taleon and this whole pack of thieves at Raven Castle. Well, that baby is an exception; he was so cute. But I can’t imagine talking important matters with kitchen servants. It just isn’t dignified.
Chapter 11
“Cassandra. Cassandra? Are you all right?”
Alexandra picked up her head from her crossed arms with a start. She really didn’t remember pushing her bowl away and laying her head down. All of this kitchen chatter had put her to sleep.
“Did you fall asleep?”
“No,” she said with a little shake of her head and blushed as the kitchen people—for they certainly weren’t servants—stared at her.
“I think you
have had enough for one day. Come, I’ll show you more later,” said Taleon, getting up from his seat.
Wearily Alexandra followed him as they went through what seemed eternal labyrinths of hallways back to her room.
“Thank you, Taleon.”
“Rest up; tomorrow will be a long day, and I might not let you off as easily as I did today.”
Alexandra ignored him and closed her door, only waiting long enough to hear it lock before jumping gleefully into her bed. Yes, sleep sounded so welcoming.
A few hours later she woke up. That same horrid dream awakened her.
Why on earth must it haunt me! He is NOT MY FATHER! I WON’T LET HIM BE. I won’t; I won’t! If I believe he is my father, that means everything I believe in was a lie. I am not wrong; I am the princess of the noblest blood. Archibald is my father and always will be. Those people I saw today were their own abused victims. They are just trying to make me believe their exaggerated claims. Once I believe them I will become a victim of their conniving schemes. I will find myself stabbed in the heart by their wicked treachery.
Turning over onto her stomach, she buried her face in the pillow, clenching her eyes shut. She tried to erase the dream. It would not go away.
Frustrated, she screamed into her pillow and beat it with her fists. Sitting up, she hit and hissed defiantly at it.
“I will not believe it. He is not my father. You hear me. Do you hear me? I refuse to believe you. All of it. He can’t be my father. The people are misled. You are not wrong, Alexandra. You aren’t. But they are so helpless, to see them...” With a cry of rage, she struck her pillow sending it from the bed onto the floor watching it tumble with mixed delight, anger, and humiliation at her own actions.
There was a sudden click at her door. Startled she turned around. It was Taleon opening the door with a food tray.
“Are you all right?”
Alexandra flushed bright red. “I thought I saw a mouse,” she said, feigning fear in her voice.
“I see,” he said, his lips trembling as if trying to keep back a smile. “We have a few cats about the place. I’ll see one is placed in your room.”
Alexandra slipped out on the far side of her bed and retrieved the tumbled pillow. With an air of penance, she squeezed it apologetically for her mistreatment of it.
“Thank you,” she murmured under her breath. Wondering if she should protest about having a cat in her room since it would do no good since there were no mice.
Taleon watched her curiously. It was apparent that she was unaware that this was his second entry into her room. He had heard the full confession to the pillow and witnessed its mistreatment before retreating silently and reopening the door.
Mouse indeed, he thought. Just the same I will make sure she has a cat to keep her company and, if nothing else, remind her why he is in her room.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” he asked casually, setting down her tray.
“A little, I guess. That baby was sweet, except he fussed awfully.”
“You’ll get to know how to care for children by and by.”
“Did you have any brothers and sisters?”
Taleon shrugged off the question. “Know any songs? There might be one that puts him to sleep.”
“My nurse Rita used to sing one to me. I liked it. Judith never sung to me.”
“Rita?”
“Yes, she was my nursemaid for a while. Then, I had Judith. Rita left for some strange reason. One night she sang me to sleep. The next morning she was gone. Father said she had run away or something like that. It was Judith who watched me after that, so everything was all right. I mean, people don’t stick around forever.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, my mother died; Rita left me; I have never had a friend my own age for more than a month. They were always too rambunctious for my state of health and were sent away. The only people who have stayed in my life are my father and Judith, but even they are gone now that you have trapped me up here.”
Taleon raised one eyebrow and sighed. That certainly is a glum outlook to have on life.
“Well, you better eat and rest up. You might not get off so easily tomorrow. There is a lot to get done.”
“You already said that.”
“Just saying I warned you.”
“But my health might not permit it. I am not strong, you know.”
Taleon shrugged and closed the door.
Alexandra had just finished braiding her hair the next morning when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in?” she answered.
There was a rattle of keys, and Taleon popped his head in. “Time for breakfast. I think it’s time you took breakfast like civilized folk.”
“I do take it like civilized folk. I am not at all like the rest of you.”
Taleon laughed. “Just the same, you are going to come take it with the rest of us for once.”
“I don’t want to.”
“All right, then, you don’t have to have breakfast if you don’t want to.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know. You have two options: come with me down for breakfast or stay here and skip it. I’ll be back for you in a little while because you can’t stay in your room all day.”
“Who says I can’t?”
Taleon tipped his head to one side. “Do I have to remind you already?”
“I outrank you and you must obey my orders.”
“The king outranks you and I am obeying his orders so I have a higher ranking.”
“You do not.”
“I am not going to argue with you. Are you coming to breakfast or not?”
“I am not hungry; in fact, I am feeling rather ill from yesterday. I think I might have caught some sort of illness from being with the refugees.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, stepping closer.
She felt uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t come close. You might catch it from me.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What are you feeling?” he asked concern clouding his face.
Alexander panicked, searching for symptoms she could easily fake.
“I have a headache, and my stomach feels awful.” Unexpectedly her stomach rumbled.
“For that kind of illness, I prescribe breakfast. You are probably lightheaded from not eating, and your stomach is obviously suffering from the same deficiency,” he said.
“I suppose you are right. I didn’t think of that.”
“I am sure you didn’t,” he said with a smile.
In a short while, Alexandra found herself in a hall full of talking people and tables lined with food.
“There is a group of girls your age; why don’t you go join them?”
“But I...”
Taleon was already gone. The story she had told Amy ran through her mind. She could do this. Really she could. Quietly she went and slipped onto the end of a bench where there was an empty plate.
None of the girls seemed to really notice her; they were so deeply involved in their conversation. She listened in. They were talking about her!
“Did you see that pearl she gave to Amy?”
“Wasn’t it beautiful?”
“Oh I know! I want one, but I doubt that that will ever happen. Can you imagine not being able to braid your own hair?”
“No; I have been doing my hair since I can remember.”
“Me too.”
“Do you think we will ever get to see her?”
“I doubt it. She is always locked up in that room of hers.”
“Do you know why?”
“I hear she is sickly.”
“I hope that is not true. King Aric is so good. To be cursed with an heir who is ill would be so bad. He has waited so long to get her here.”
“What will he do if she dies? Her mother has already died, the poor thing.”
“I don’t know. They say that his
wife’s death broke his heart. What would it do to him to lose his daughter too?”
“I can’t imagine. Who would he name as heir to the kingdom?”
“I don’t know.”
“The council pressed him to name a second heir just in case something should happen. He wouldn’t name anyone. He didn’t want to put Princess Cassandra’s life in more danger than it already was. Can you imagine what it must be like living in the same castle with King Archibald?”
“No, I would be deathly ill just from that thought.”
“I feel sorry for her. Can you imagine growing up with no mother and with him for a father? King Aric and he are so different.”
“I feel sorry for her. If we thought his treatment down in the valley was bad, what must it be like for her?”
“I wouldn’t want to know. I wonder if she is allowed to bring up her mother without the threat of death looming over her head.”
“Probably not.”
“I am just glad we don’t have to go through any of those horrid exercises anymore.”
“Weren’t those awful! I was always afraid I would fail. The soldiers always looked so stern when they gave the test.”
“Your brother Ronny, is he getting any better?”
“Yes, he was a spitfire of a lad; still is. When the soldier asked him who is king, he answered all too boldly, ‘King Aric the mighty protector of the realm, sir.’ That soldier got so angry. I thought he was going to kill him. Instead, they gave him a lashing that went on forever. They almost branded him, but decided he was so young they would make an example out of him instead. They left him in the stocks for two whole days then rode out of town with him. I thought I was never going to see him again. The next day he barely stumbled into town all by himself. They let him go after he swore allegiance to Archibald. Father couldn’t stay another day. We left for Raven Castle that evening as soon as night had fallen. It took us almost a month to get here, hiding from the soldiers and everything.”
“Your brother is amazing.”
“I know. He is my hero. I didn’t have the guts to say it. I gave the answers they wanted to hear; he answered from his heart. Except for his allegiance to King Archibald—that was not from his heart. He says he has no greater joy than looking forward to breaking his word, and he usually keeps it with such honor, I am rather shocked.”
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