The Four Tales

by Rebecca Reddell

  Alone, Wren rubbed her temples and took steady breathes. She stopped long enough to turn on the faucets and check the water temperature before initiating the spray. Showering would help her headache and take the black edges away.

  A few seconds later, she was beneath the water and soaking her hair. Shampooing, Wren messaged her scalp and thought about the number in her pocket. She would have to find the chance to call it. There was a possibility it could be the clue she’d need.

  After lunch, I’ll call after lunch.

  6

  “Wren, are you listening to me?” Queen Sybelle held her pen in midair and looked over at her stepdaughter with a frown.

  Sighing, Wren looked up at her and nodded. “Yes, Sybelle. I’m listening. I’ve heard about the flowers, reception dinner, and the outfit you decided father should wear.”

  “I’m glad to know you’ve heard what I’m saying. Would you prefer to participate?” she asked with a raise of her brow.

  “No, I don’t think I have anything pertinent to add. You and Mr. Gabriel seem to have covered everything. When did you get all of these details worked out?”

  “He called on the way to his office. He wanted to verify a few things with me before he put in the orders. It was very kind of him.”

  “Good,” Wren nodded.

  Laying her pen on the table, Sybelle folded her hands and stared at Wren. “Listen, dear, I need you to give me some feedback in the decisions we have to make.”

  “I thought Mr. Gabriel was taking care of everything?”

  “He is, but we should have a say in what is happening. He was my husband and your father not to mention the king.”

  “I’m very aware of who he was. I don’t need you to tell me.”

  “Don’t get snippy with me. This is too hard as it is.”

  Taking a deep breath, Wren folded her arms on the table. “Sybelle, you haven’t cried at all. I doubt this is hard on you.”

  Placing her hands flat on the table, Sybelle leaned forward, and said, “I loved my husband. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. It’s true.”

  Stuffing her retort deep inside, Wren caved and nodded. “I’m listening.”

  “Thank you. Now, the floral arrangement I picked will have roses, baby’s breath, gladiolas, and lilies. Does that work for you?”

  “Yes,” Wren agreed.

  “Do you have any input on the outfit for your father?”

  “No.” Wren cleared her throat when Sybelle raised a brow and added, “What you picked is fine. The suit was his favorite.”

  Sybelle gave a nod and looked at her paper. “Should we serve beef or chicken at the reception? Or finger sandwiches? I’m sure no one is going to be hungry.”

  “Some people might be hungry, Sybelle. We should offer them some refreshments.”

  “You’re right. Thank you for the perspective. Which would be better then?”

  “The beef, chicken, or sandwiches?” Wren checked.

  “Yes, those are the choices.”

  “Perhaps sandwiches. It would be less overwhelming, and if people aren’t hungry, then we aren’t wasting chicken or beef. Both would be too filling. Sandwiches can be put together or taken apart, added too, or taken away from.”

  “You don’t think it would be too informal? He is the king after all. Would they think we were being cheap?”

  “I don’t think anyone with an ounce of sense would think such a thing. We’ll have all the garnishes and side dishes to round it out. You could have soup, salad, and breads.”

  “Your thoughts are noted and appreciated. I was thinking of having tea, and I wondered if we should have a bar? I don’t know if your father would approve?”

  “You might as well. There will be several important government people as well as the Prime Minister, and it might be good to offer them alternate beverages.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “Well,” Wren thought about it, “I would suggest wine, brandy, and scotch. I believe the PM enjoys his brandy.”

  “You are correct.” Sybelle made some notes on her paper. “I have made a memo of it. I’ll inform the caterers of our decisions. Are you sure about the sandwiches?”

  “I think they’d work, but if you’d like to ask Mr. Gabriel, I’m sure he’ll have an opinion.”

  Sybelle nodded and made a few more notes. Wren watched her and wondered how she could be so calm. Sighing, she waited for the next question.

  “I have made an appointment for your fitting tomorrow,” Sybelle stated.

  “What fitting?”

  “The fitting for your funeral dress. I thought it would be a nice idea to have a new one to honor your father.”

  Wren bit her lip to keep from saying she had three black dresses which could work. She had a whole black outfit and a black skirt-shirt combo. She’d ordered them from Neirin’s the previous day when she hadn’t been allowed to take anything from her bedroom. Instead, she gave a sigh and nodded.

  “Thank you, Wren. I appreciate you taking this on with me. Our appointments are back to back. We’ll stop by Mr. Gabriel’s on the way to drop off our updated list.”

  Sybelle looked down at the papers in front of her, and said, “I already sent an email detailing all of the invitees a few days ago. I can update it. Is there anyone you’d like to include?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Wren, I wondered if you’d like to invite anyone to your father’s funeral?”

  “Ellie. I’d like to invite Ellie.”

  “Wren, she’s a maid. She will have duties to perform that day, and we already allow her to work around her school schedule. I’m not giving her the day off to join you for your father’s funeral. She’ll have to be here to help you dress as it is.”

  “Ellie’s my friend. She knew dad. She liked him, and he liked her.”

  “I’m sure she did. However, it will be out of the question. We’ll need everyone on staff here that day. What about your friends from school?”

  “I don’t have friends from school,” Wren said.

  Sighing, Sybelle reached up and took off her glasses. She set them on the paper with the notes and turned her green gaze to Wren.

  “I’m sure you have friends. You spent several years there. It was an excellent school.”

  “For people without a backbone,” Wren muttered with downcast eyes.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Wren said.

  “Listen, Wren, I want you to come up with a name. Isn’t there anyone you liked there?”

  Wren shook her head. “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she added, when she heard Sybelle sigh. “I didn’t get close to anyone while I was there. I believe I tried to share my experiences with you and father multiple times, but neither of you would listen.”

  “I don’t have time for self-pity, Wren. If you can’t think of anyone, I’ll check my list and see who I can invite for you.”

  “I want Ellie to come, and I’d rather you wouldn’t interfere in my nonfriendships. If you plan to invite people on my behalf, please don’t.”

  “Fine. I’m not going to argue with you over this. Now, I believe we’ve covered everything for the time being. Did you have anything you wanted to add?”

  “No, I agree with you. We’ve gone over everything,” Wren said and started to stand.

  “Thank you, Wren. I appreciate you taking these moments to help me plan. Is your headache any better?”

  “It’s a dull thud, but it’s much better. Thanks for asking,” Wren attempted to not choke over the words.

  It feels weird being… nice.

  Sybelle gave a wan smile. “I know this is a very difficult time, Wren, but we’ll get through it.”

  Nodding, Wren bit her lip and tried not to say anything condescending. Her stepmother went back to writing on her notepad, and she wondered when she could escape.

  “Is there anything else you need?” Wren asked.

  “For now, that covers it. Perhaps, you sho
uld go lay down for a little while. Your headache might go away.”

  Wren stood and left the dining room. She managed to say nothing on her way out. She was used to being ordered around by her stepmother in the subtle, yet firm do-what-I-said-or-else way. Biting her tongue had become a habit over the years.

  Down the hallway, she paused. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Sybelle through the doorway still writing on her notepad. Wren decided to take a turn and head toward the library. Inside, she looked around and found it empty.

  She closed the door and tried to think of where to start. “The desk,” she muttered and darted over to it.

  The desk was kept in the library for writing letters, and she suspected something had to be there. She just had to look. Wren began yanking drawer after drawer open.

  “Paper, stationary, cards, pens, pencils, erasers, ink,” Wren started to list the objects as she found them, “are the only things in this drawer.”

  Turning to the three along the left, she found paperclips, rubber bands, and stick notes. “I didn’t even think my stepmother would own sticky notes. They’re in lime green and pink too. She’s lost her mind.”

  Throwing the stack into the wooden hole, she sighed. Six drawers and nothing in any of them. The middle was the only one left. Tugging on it, she couldn’t get it open.

  “Convenient. Of course, it would be locked. I’ll figure out how to unlock it and will either find nothing of importance or a letter detailing her evil plans,” Wren whispered to herself.

  Hands on her hips, she shook her head. “I feel as if I’m in a bad movie. Fine, I need to figure out how to break this.”

  Knowing there had to be a key, Wren picked up the statue and lamp on the desk top to see if anything was under them. Sighing, she started to put them back in their places, but it was hard to tell where exactly they had been since there was no dust. Setting them down as best as she could, Wren checked the stapler even though she didn’t believe anything could be there.

  “Of course,” she stared at the bottom of the stapler where a key was taped. “This is the worst television detective movie coming to fruition. Who in their right mind would tape the key to the stapler?”

  Ripping it off, she inserted it into the lock. The tumbler clicked, and she looked inside. A checkbook sat inside and nothing else. Picking it up, she flipped through it and found only five had been used. They looked as if they were for bills.

  Shaking her head, she threw it back in and relocked the drawer. “I knew it. False key. I wonder if there might be a false drawer?”

  Putting the key back, she relooked through the drawers and climbed under the desk hoping to find any hideaway places where a secret space might be. Fifteen minutes later, she gave up.

  “Where could she have put something suspicious?”

  There were walls of shelves. It would take hours to look through all of them. Her head dropped back, and she gawked at the ceiling.

  “Oh!” She jerked up straight and sat down in the plush, leather chair. “Phone number!”

  After she dialed, it just rang. There wasn’t any voicemail or answering machine. Hanging up, Wren decided to try again later.

  “I’m getting nowhere. I might need to call upon reinforcements. Perhaps Ellie will help me.” Unable to talk herself into taking the library apart, Wren left it.

  7

  “Princess? Princess, are you in there?” Ellie’s voice came through the heavy, oak doorway.

  “Huh?” Wren sat up on the bed and looked around her new room.

  The light was setting, and shadows covered the floor. She didn’t recall falling asleep. After attempting to find evidence in the library and making the phone call, she’d come back to her room and took another shower. Her head had started to pound, and Wren hoped the steam would relieve the tension.

  “Princess?”

  “Hold on, Ellie!” Jumping out of bed, she reached out her hand to grab a bed post.

  A dizzy wave caused her to feel nauseous for a few seconds. Her headache hadn’t completely dissipated with the shower and apparent nap she’d fallen into. Holding her breath and closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  “Yes, I’m on my way,” Wren replied.

  Opening the door, she came face to face with Ellie. Her concerned eyes and frowning brows were the first thing Wren saw.

  “What’s wrong?” Ellie asked.

  “I must have fallen asleep. I came upstairs after lunch and took a shower. I’m not sure how I ended up crashing, but I must have.”

  “Why’d you lock the door? I didn’t have my key, and I couldn’t open it. I was going to go ask the housekeeper for hers, but I thought you might answer.”

  “What happened to your key?” Wren stood back waiting for Ellie to enter, but she didn’t.

  “I don’t know. I may have left it in my other uniform. Anyway, I need you to come downstairs with me, please.”

  “Ellie? What’s wrong? Your face tells me there’s an issue.”

  “There is, but I need you to see it. Your stepmother wanted me to get you.”

  “Sybelle? I already helped with the food choices for the funeral and agreed to go shopping for a new black dress, what more does she need?”

  “It isn’t about any of those things.” Ellie waved her out the door.

  “Ellie?”

  “Follow me,” she tilted her head back toward the stairs, and Wren closed her door and followed.

  “You’re not going to tell me what’s going on? As my friend, you should warn me about what I’m getting into.”

  “Wren,” Ellie stopped at the corner and laid her hand on Wren’s arm. “The library has been destroyed.”

  “What?” Wren shook her head. “It can’t be. I was in there, and it wasn’t, what time is it?”

  Feeling as if she couldn’t catch her breath, Wren closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

  “Wren, it happened sometime between you going in and a few minutes before now. It’s twenty till seven. I was on my way to get you when they found the library. Davies had seen you enter the library a few hours ago, but no one saw you leave it.”

  “They think I did it?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I’m sorry, Wren. You’re under suspicion since no one else was seen going in there, and no one saw you leave.”

  “Don’t you see? Someone saw me go in there besides Davies! They know I was searching for clues, and they went in there to throw suspicion on me.”

  “By destroying the library? How would that help? Why would they think it would make you look suspicious?” Ellie continued to frown, and Wren knew her friend didn’t believe her.

  “Ellie? You know it wasn’t me, right? I went in there to search for clues. I wouldn’t do something to make me look even more guilty.”

  Sighing, the maid looked up and shook her head. “I do believe you, Wren. I just don’t know what other explanation there is.”

  Nodding, Wren sighed. “I guess we’d better go downstairs then. I want to see what’s happened.”

  The guards were in the hallway as they approached. None of them looked at Wren as she walked to the library doorway. Captain Ward stood just inside and turned as she entered. His eyes went to the floor, and he bowed.

  “Oh no,” Wren whispered, as she took in the room.

  Her stepmother stood over by the desk where Wren had been hours before making a call. Picking up the phone from the floor, Sybelle set it on the desk.

  “Queen, you might not want to touch anything until we figure out what happened here,” Captain Ward admonished.

  “I can’t just stand here and do nothing, Captain. Wren, do you know what happened? Davies said you came in here after lunch, after our discussion of the funeral.”

  “I did,” Wren admitted, coming further into the room. “I came in here to look at the books. I thought I might want to read, but my head was still hurting, and I de
cided against it. When I left, it didn’t look like this. I didn’t do this.”

  She didn’t want to tell them she’d been in here looking for clues and calling a phone number she’d found in the pocket of her stepmother’s clothes.

  Sybelle took a noticeable breath and nodded. “Are you sure you weren’t upset about our conversation and got angry?”

  “No!” Wren shook her head and crossed her arms. “I wasn’t angry. I came in, and I left a few minutes later. I went upstairs, showered, and took a nap.”

  Sybelle nodded again. “If you were this angry, you would have told me, right?”

  “I wasn’t angry. The last couple of days haven’t been easy, but I didn’t do this. You know I wouldn’t destroy the library.”

  Wren took in the wreckage. Books were off the shelves, papers were torn up and scattered around the room, statues and lamps lay on the floor, and there were hardly any carpet spaces peeking up at them.

  Her father’s favorite books had been ripped from their homes and dumped on the floor. Shoulders slumping, Wren didn’t know who would do such a terrible thing. Wren also didn’t know if her stepmother would do this to her favorite place, unless she did it to throw blame onto Wren.

  “Did anyone see me leave? There has to be proof of when I left the room. I wasn’t in here for very long.”

  “Davies saw you come in after you left the dining room. No one’s mentioned seeing you exit the room at any time afterward. Did anyone see you head up to your room?”

  “I don’t think so,” Wren said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

  Sybelle nodded.

  “Do you want me to inform the officers, Queen Sybelle?” Captain Ward asked.

  “No,” Sybelle shook her head. “I think that will be unnecessary. Nothing seems taken, and we don’t need to add insult to injury. We’ll handle this ourselves.”

  “Yes, Queen Sybelle. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The captain looked back and forth between her and Wren.

  “Please apprise Davies of the need for the maids to clean this up. We need it back in order before the night ends.”

  Captain Ward nodded, bowed, and left the room. He barked orders on his way, and the other guards went back to their posts. Wren and Sybelle were left with Ellie in the room within the next few seconds.