The Princess and I

Chapter I: The start of a new beginning

Gun shots. The roaring sounds of cannon fire. Men shouting. Women crying, searching for their children. Houses are being plundered by people we once called friends. Everywhere there's blood, screaming, violence. I never thought I would live to see this day. And how agonizing it is indeed! My father cradles his three women in his strong arms and hushes our moans out of fear we're heard. My two brothers are looking at the sky, afraid of who may open those doors. The way they look they're just like the warfare gods of yore. Elias isn't even old enough to wear a gun; he's just fourteen. Nicholas on the contrary is the patriarch of his own family now, so I guess he must defend us as well as his wife and new born boy. I look at my nephew, who is -surprisingly- sleeping. We're all afraid for the moment he wakes up and feels our anxiety. We should make sure he's got something to eat to prevent him from crying. My sister-in-law Louisa is just wordlessly praying in unison with my mother.

Another blast and the ground shudders. Dust falls into our eyes. This one was much closer than the last. And indeed, suddenly I hear wood breaking close by, the sounds of statues being smashed to pieces, pieces of art being destroyed into oblivion, glass breaking and then flames of fire crackling. Footsteps are running and then there's perfect silence, except for the rustling sounds of the flames. Nicholas looks to his father too afraid to ask what we should do next. I don't know what causes his fears. I don't understand him. What is there to do really? We are here. The flames are upstairs. We're in our safe haven.

Not for long the raging fire upstairs reaches our shelter however. The heat is growing. Smoke clouds our sight and makes it difficult to breathe. My father puts his handkerchief over our mouths, so we won't breath in the toxin smoke. I hear him coughing and feel my own eyes water. He puts us down to the ground where the air is fresher. Still, I'm having difficulty breathing. I'm afraid we all will die in this dreadful place. Roasted like bread in an oven. I can't see anyone anymore. I hear a dull knock like somebody's falling down. I don't know who it is.

My eyes are burning, so I can't cry anymore. My throat feels thick and raspy. It closes down my trachea. Therefore, breathing gets really hard and it hurts like hell. I feel airless, which my father's body on top of me definitely makes it worse. My lungs are screaming for oxygen. I see stars in front of my eyes. And then the hatch to our shelter opens...

∞

Screaming, I wake up. My sweat is running down my face. I really feel hot and feverish, while cool air is caressing my overheated skin. It will take a while before my breathing returns to normal. Such a vivid dream... Even now, ten years after escaping that inferno I still find myself back there. Back in France during the July Revolution as people call it now. I don't care what name they give this event. For me, it was hell on earth. Violence a child should never have to witness. It left me marked for life. Not physically, luckily, but mentally. I'll never lose my fear of fire. And even when my mind is occupied with other things, in my nightmares I return to Paris in 1830 and find myself locked up once more, afraid to die.

My father was part of the French bourgeoisie and luckily we were able to keep our title here in England. He is a Viscount here for as long as the French keep up their class system. When the classes disappear, so would our heritage. That's why my father did everything in his power here to make money. He was a decent businessman and he was the boss of a big food factory in Liverpool. But he also expected his children to fight for our title. That's why my oldest brother Nicholas married the pretty daughter of another Viscount. And since I was the firstborn daughter of my family, they wished me to marry a wealthy husband as well, so at least our future was safe.

My handmaid, Alice Green, suddenly enters my room startling me out of my reverie by wishing me a good morning merrily. I merely grunt. She opens my curtains and sunshine blinds me momentarily. 'Good day, Miss,' remarks my handmaiden humming. 'Are you ready for your big day?'