The Rugged Edge

Chapter 13: What Happened After I Dropped My Books

It never does to rest in dread,
joy bleeding in the darkest red.
With others I resolved to save
the kingdom lost and grave.

. . . . .

I was miserable. I'd just taken Professor Alastair's life away from him. Sure, I hadn't known that he had been commanded not to tell me about any laws. And I had saved him from worse times in prison. But it was the first time that one of my own decisions had affected another person, and I felt a heaving responsibility for it, heavier than the books in my arms. I was sorry.

I suddenly had to stop in my tracks, but only for a split second. I was sorry. As I sped through Rokenfort, I realized that I'd never been sorry before. Not really. I had felt sorrow, in a different sense, and I had felt anger; I had felt misery and frustration. But being sorry for my own actions? I'd never had a reason to. Collum had rebuked me when I did unprincess-like things when I was young, but I'd never felt sorry for them, and only ever stopped begrudgingly. I realized that the only time I could have been sorry was before I could remember: when I had my own mother to rebuke me with love and reason.

And all of this only gave me more resolve in my present actions. It was in my hands to restore Professor Alastair's home and work. It was in my hands to restore everything. With that on my heart, I ran up the staircase. The staircase that led towards Professor Alastair's study. As soon as I heard voices, I slowed to a leisurely walk. I really hoped my books would buy me a talk with Geraint, somehow.

"He's not anywhere?" shouted Collum. "You are sure that you looked everywhere?"

"Yes, Sire," replied a guard. "He's gone."

"What could this mean?" cried Collum. "Who could have warned him?"

"We don't know, Your Majesty," said another guard.

"I was not talking to you," snapped Collum, and he thundered down the hallway, almost stumbling into me, and I dropped my books. It was the perfect time. "And you, what are you doing out of bed?" he demanded.

I crouched to pick up the books. "Nothing, Sire. I only needed to return some books to Professor Alastair."

"Well, you can pick those up and be on your way," replied the angry man. "Professor Alastair is gone. He ran away after finding that I knew he had instructed you about laws as I forbade him to."

I stumbled while standing, stealing a glance at Geraint, and made eye contact. "He's gone? Where did he go?"

"Do I look like I know? He ran away, the coward that he is. Go on, leave your books and go back to bed. The room is open."

"Yes, Sire," I said. "But they are so heavy."

Geraint spoke up. "I'll help her, Sire. And then I'll go back to duty. The poor child, she's all worn out with this madness."

Collum looked at Geraint, and then at me. "Very well, I suppose. But get a move on." I could have sworn he smiled as he turned to go. He really did like the idea of me being weak.

Once everyone was gone, Geraint turned to take the books from me.

"No, it's alright, I've got them," I said.

He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, and he smiled. Like usual. "Come on, princess, let's finish playing the part. It can't hurt."

I pursed my lips and let him take them, and we began to walk towards the open tower room door.

"So what was that all about?" asked the guard.

And I told him everything from dinner with Collum to rescuing Professor Alastair, and he listened quietly the whole time. Only when I was finished did he speak.

"I see," he said. "That was pretty brave." We were done with our task, and stood in the tower room.

I glared at him. "You don't have time to flatter me. I need to know if we should report this back to Rufus."

Geraint was clearly surprised. "Of course we should. Why else did you do it?"

"I... don't know. I saw a chance for in-tell."

He gave me a sideways glance. "That's not good enough. You are definitely going to explain that to me, but later. Like you said, we're short on time. We've already wasted too much and will have to think of an excuse. Don't look so worried," he said, although I was pretty sure I hadn't looked worried at all. He smiled. "I have an idea." He paused, for dramatic effect, I suppose.

"Well? Get on with it."

"You're going to sprain your ankle."

I glared at him. I was stressed and nervous, though I tried not to show it, and I was finding him considerably irritating.

He put his hands up in mock defense. "Not for real! Now listen, I'm serious," and it was true; his whole expression changed from joke to business. "You're going to sprain your ankle on the way up - all those heavy books! - and that'll be our delay. I'll have had to help you down. It'll ward off any suspicion about you being related to any of this, and establish Collum's belief of your being weak, which is kind of obvious." He paused, looking at my expression. "Not that you are weak! The fact that Collum believes you're weak is what's obvious. We just need to make sure Collum keeps believing so. You're vital to this mission." He smiled. It was really starting to annoy me.

We were on our way down the long staircase now, and our voices sank to a whisper.

"Fine. I'll sprain my ankle," I said. "But you'd better listen to my idea now. It'll even play into your make him believe I'm weak idea."

"Alright, go on."

So I told him.

"Great! That's settled, then," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

"What? Just because you'll be all hard to convince doesn't mean I should be," said Geraint. "And the idea really is good."

We'd reached the library now.

"I have to go," I said.

"Alright. I'll go tell somebody you've sprained your ankle. Make sure you can act like it."

"I'll be fine." And with that, I turned and left.