The Goose Girl

The King's Letter

"Daughter, where have you been?" My mother sits upon her throne. She is a beautiful, graceful, and refined woman. She loves the people of her land, and they love her. She has boosted the economy, the health, and the spirit of the country and she has made careful precautions that will help our country prosper in the future. And I aspire to be even better a queen than she is one day.
I curtsy. All eyes are on me, and all the owners of the eyes know I am awkward and embarrassed. I smile. "I lost track of time. If it wasn't for the Prime Minister, I would still not be here."
I turn my gaze at him and give him an underlying, hidden glare. He notices this and shoves his nose up even further than it already was. I have never liked him, and he has never liked me. He is ten years my senior, but acts older than mother. He and Lottie are of the same thread, scary about their profession.
"You have a visitor. From Analora." Mother says as she ushers me to sit in the smaller throne reserved for me. She coughs, and I can't help but admire her for her gracefulness even when she coughs. Whenever I cough, it is as if a dying cat is throwing up a hair-ball filled with iron and mice bones and teeth.
From Analora? How odd. We never get visitors, or anything from Analora. They neighbor us to the north, and our relationship with them has remained unstable. They could destroy my country without a second thought. Their military is ten times the size of ours. There are rumors that say that half of their soldiers have been trained by the most powerful wizards to use a special killing or torture magic. In their history, they have never lost a single war.
The Analorian bows very quickly, yet gracefully. He looks up and we both look horrified. I sit on my hands to keep them from feeling the cold truth of what I have done earlier. He quickly refines himself, but I still cannot control my petrified manner.
"It is fate that I get to gaze upon your beautiful face once more. I am blessed to meet you again, but this time I a messenger  and you a princess." He walks up to the throne to kiss my hand. He reaches it, but with his face buried at my feet and his feet in the air. Before I can offer him help, he springs up and smiles a different goofy smile. Shockingly, he kisses my hand without falling.
"You two know each other?" Mother states. I am unsure how to decipher her reaction. She looks at me, and then looks at him. And then she notices his purplish nose.
"Yes, I stumbled upon her." He bows his head and doesn't mention how he literally stumbled onto me. The Prime Minister looks thoroughly amused at my discomfort. I try to smile, but I can't hide my uneasiness. "And how glad I was when I first saw her face, the face of angels!"
He's just afraid I'll punch him again.
"I want to learn more of your meeting, but first tell me why the king of Analora sends a messenger here, without any announcement?" Mother arches her spine forward and pretends to be interested in the important message, and everyone is fooled. Except for me. I know her best. I know she only wants to know of my encounter with the nameless messenger. She may be a responsible and caring queen, but she is quite the gossip, especially when it comes to my affairs.
"Dear Queen Alianna of the Selenivia Kingdom," the messenger emphases the king in kingdom, to prove that the king disagrees with our sovereignty title. If mother had been born a boy, the queendom wouldn't be a queendom. It would be a kingdom. The status of the queendom, or kingdom, changes based upon what gender the ruler is. It is a tradition that has existed since the formation of Selenivia. However, many countries in this modern era still despise calling us a queendom because it scares them; they are more conservative and protective of women than we are.
        "I have a proposition for you of the utmost importance. I advice you to choose where it benefits both of our kingdoms. It has come to my knowledge that Princess Aurelie is of the marriage age. The heir to the throne, my son, is seeking a bride. And while our countries have been bickering for quite some time, I find it purposeful to put that nonsense in the past and merge our kingdoms into one through our children.
        "However, if you or your daughter denies this proposal, then it would be to my advantage to settle our disputes through war." The messenger looks up, but no one believes he is done, although he tries to convince us with us eyes. "If this war were to happen, not only your people would suffer, but also the royal family. I highly suggest for you to not even think of the latter and accept.
        "If you do accept, send my messenger back to Analora as soon as you have agreed to the union. As it takes seven days to travel to Analora, send your daughter on the eighth day of returning my messenger. This will give us an abundant amount of time to plan for her arrival. She shall pack light and she is permitted to bring one servant to stay with her.
        "And if you do not accept, once my messenger arrives, I shall prepare my troops for war and they shall reach Selenivia before the end of the month.
        "I advice you to pick the first option, and to decide with haste. With the best regards, King Byrne of Analora." The messenger hands mother the message, and her face shows more than she will say.
        She doesn't want me to go. She doesn't want me to be imprisoned in another country. She doesn't want me to marry a prince who is most likely a womanizer. But she has to. King Byrne would attack our people if we refused, and they would win. Selenivia would fall and Analora take charge. I mustn't let my country suffer because of my wish for freedom and true love
        "This is absurd! Is he serious?" Mother strokes her armrest on her chair as she accuses the messenger whose name I have yet to learn. She keeps her voice almost at a whispering dynamic, but she is screaming and yelling with anger. The messenger nods. "There has to be another way."
        "I will accept the proposal." I say with my chin up high. Everyone in the room turns to look at me. The messenger's eyes gleam with hope and the corners of his lips curl into an encouraging, yet almost frightening smile. The court scuffles from one foot to another, unsure if this is a noble deed I am ready to commit or an excuse to slack off ruling the kingdom. Maverick's chest is shaking; he's controlling his laughter. I know he doesn't believe I am willing to do this, but all the more reason to. And mother, for once in the public eye, she is showing symptoms of stress, she picks at her green embroidered dress to stop her sweaty hands. Her hair begins to fall from her bun little at a time, but she doesn't hurry to fix or hide it. I can vaguely see the outline of her jaw move from side to side. The silk covering her skin moves very slightly and cautiously, up and down at a very high tempo.
        "But you are still a child. While it is permissible for you at your age to marry, many girls wait a year or two until they are no longer a child. This request is ridiculous, blackmailing me to give away your freedom." She pushes the fallen hair behind her ears but she only reveals her glistening hands.
I don't understand why she is fretting so much, especially in front of an audience. To my knowledge, her marriage was out of true love, so it is not as if she is talking from experience against arranged marriages. If Maverick or the counsel had found a suitable man that would benefit the queendom, then they would have proposed a marriage for me long ago, dismissing the age factor. Mother is only making excuses, she is only hiding her true fears.
         "He says he would hurt the citizens. I believe King Byrne to be a man of his word and a man with a perfect record of military success. We have managed with our military in the recent past because not one country has sought to declare war on us. If we refuse and he attacks, no matter how hard we try, no matter how many recruits we get, innocent people will die because I wouldn't get married to a prince. There is a high probability that we would lose. Who knows what they would do to us? Instead of the prince's wife, I could become his concubine. They will torture us and get inside our minds and we won't be living. Not one of our subjects will be living, even if their hearts maintain a heart beat. I do not want anyone to get hurt because of a lifelong partnership. I have to go." All movement ceases. In this moment, no one believes anymore that I will be a horrible queen. Not the Prime Minister, not the chaotic ladies of the court, and not even me.
If the situation were not so dire, I would have smiled and giggled. This is my first political success, and it almost makes me want to dance and be giddy. But instead, I hold my head high and make my eyes shimmer with pride.
        "If this is..." She begins to cough. At first, I think she is suffering from sort of weather allergy, as it is almost that dreadful season, but then she starts shaking. The coughs become dry and raspy, yet powerful. It's like the ground is breaking into two and the sky falling. She tries to stop the sudden outburst, but she can't. She also tries to be refined about it and cough with eloquence and a relative of grace, but she performs as grace's archenemy: monstrosity.