The Princess's Servant

1. The Realization

Princess Sybil did not realize until she was older that she had witnessed the death of her kingdom's autonomy. She saw the long, trailing caravans that meandered across the lush green hills at her kingdom's edge, and figured that that king must have liked their wine a lot to buy so much of it. She imagined the gold that had to be pouring into the kingdom's coffers and felt proud her people made such a good product. It wasn't until she was twenty long years of age that she finally learned the truth.

"What do you mean he's not paying for any of it?!" The princess stood from her cushioned seat on the castle veranda. As she spoke, the thousandth train of white-tarped wagons drifted away from the kingdom walls and towards a shadowy forest. A rolling wind swept the fields giving the appearance of a grassy sea. "After all this time?!"

The queen cut her husband a look and he gripped his glass a little tighter.

"She was bound to find out," the king defended with a sheepish smile.

"He's been stealing from us all these years and you never told me?!" The princess asked. "I'll kill him! He has no right!"

The queen closed her eyes and let out a breath. "Sybbie," came her mother's pet name. "What did we say about reacting before you have all the information? You don't know the full story."

"Let me guess." The princess had an angry fire in her eye that the queen knew meant trouble. "He threatened our kingdom so you folded and gave him what he wanted."

"Sybil," her father said in a chiding tone.

"That's what happened, isn't it?" She pressed.

The queen sighed again and hoped in her heart she wouldn't die of any sudden causes before her daughter could grow up a little. "The world is a complicated place," she said. "And running a kingdom isn't easy."

"No, I think it is," Sybil replied. "Tell him that if he wants our wine he can take it! You're always going on about how great our military is -- why not put it to the test!"

"Do not speak to your mother that way." The king stood up as well. Father and daughter stared each other down.

"Duncan," the queen said, waving her hand for him to sit. She drew in breath and dug down deep into her well of patience to see what she could muster. She spoke each word with care. "I don't think you understand how big the Wardian Empire is, my sweet. Their army has twice as many soliders as people in our kingdom. Sometimes you must give a little so you don't lose a lot."

The princess maintained her intense gaze. "But you didn't give a 'little,' did you? You gave them everything-- You are giving them everything! That wine is the lifeblood of Lailoy, and they're bleeding us dry."

The queen said nothing. She had nothing more to say.

The princess turned from her parents. "When I'm ruler, I'm going to make sure that no one takes advantage of us." Her voice was constricted, forceful. "Not anyone. Whatever the cost." She stepped off the cold slate floor of the balcony and crossed the plush rug of her parents' bedroom to hurry off to her room.

When she was certain her daughter was gone, the queen turned to her husband. She gave him a look he was all too familiar with.

"What? It was time."

"I'll say if it was time," said the queen. "And clearly, it was not. We shouldn't be stoking her hatred for the Wardians. Not now."

"But that's the problem, isn't it, love? She'll be living with a Wardian in two weeks' time." The king watched the waxing sliver moon begin to set. "It's better that she heard it from us now, than that she hears it from him later."

"Hmmm..." The queen replied. "You don't think she'll hate me too much, will she?"

"For... Promising her to the Emporer's Son?" The king asked. "Or for keeping it a secret for fifteen years? Did you hate your parents much for keeping your betroval a secret from you?"

"Hmm..." The queen thought for a moment. "Remind me to ask John to post another guard at our door until the full moon has passed. Perhaps two, to be safe."

"A sound idea," the king replied.

*****

The princess paced around her room with percussive steps. After switching back and forth a few dozen times, she marched into her closet, threw off her dress, and tossed on some clothes she'd stolen from a male servant. A rough linen drawstring shirt; brown pants. Muddy boots to boot. She yanked an oak colored wool cape off a dagger and a coin purse and donned them all.

She went to the one large window she had in her circular room and unlatched the lock. Swinging aside the gothic iron work and hand-cut glass, the night time view became clear to her as the first few stars emerged in a watercolor sky. She dragged a long rough rope from under her bed and fumbled for the end piece — a small noose she'd tied many many years ago for the purpose of this ritual.

She slipped it around a downwards facing metal hook and dug out a couple of soft leather gloves from the interior of her cape. Gripping the rope, she stepped up onto her cobblestone windowsill and looked below her.

Guards walked the narrow pathways between castle walls and servants lit the torches for the night. To her right, the princess could see the last rays of diffused sunlight shimmer on the gentle ocean waves. She heard distant bells as the last of the fishing boats docked for the night.

This scene calmed her body, but not her mind. She grabbed on tight to the rope and made her way down the side of the castle tower. The guards surely noticed, but they always acted like they didn't. They had made the mistake of asking her where she was going but once.

Sybbie's mucky leather boots hit the ground and she tugged and twisted the rope in a practiced movement to free it from the hook. The length of it came crashing down and she bundled it up to stash it under a rock she had carved out for this intention. With great purpose and ferocity, she stepped through the first of the castle gates and made her way to the Tavern on the Edge of the wood.