Hung Royals

23/12/1820

The carriage bumped and rolled over the stone driveway of the royal palace. When it came to a stop, my eyes fixated on the grandeur of the building that lay before me. I had seen illustrations in newspaper and magazines, but even the most talented artists in the business could not accurately depict the splendour of the palace as it appeared to the naked eye.

I swung open the door of the carriage and stepped down onto the drive, my mouth hanging open. I began striding determinedly towards the steps that led up to the double doors, resplendent with their stained-glass windows.

"Evelyn!" Ms. Thornton's abrasive voice cut through the crisp winter air and snapped me out of my hypnosis. I turned back to her to find a blend of shock and exasperation on her pinched features. "The servants' entrance" she shot at me and motioned around the left-hand side of the palace "and give me a hand with these bags, will you?"

~~~

We arrived as such, an excitable harem of serving girls – some of the best in the country that were not already employed by the crown – the newest additions to the Royal family's personal workforce.

There was no time to settle in. We left our belongings in the servants' quarters on the ground floor and were led along the servants' corridor and towards the royal hall. The girls buzzed with excitement as we neared the entrance. Prince Wilhelm's name surrounded me in hushed whispers in much the same way as it had done in the carriage all day.

My heart pounded with nerves as I pushed a stray lock of fiery red hair out of my face and pinned it back. Smoothing my hands over my pinafore, I caught sight of my trusted friend, colleague and mentor Ava a few girls ahead of me in the unruly gaggle. She smiled encouragingly and turned back to face the door. Ms. Thornton shushed us all, pushed us into an orderly line and opened the side entrance...

We filed into the hall, hands clasped behind straight backs, hair pulled neatly into a row of tight buns, pinafores fastened tidily around our midriffs. Ms. Thornton led us to stand in a row before the three thrones. Queen Kristina's face betrayed a flicker of satisfaction beneath her dark curls. The King sat motionless to the right of the Queen. The only indication that he was still alive was the gentle rise-and-fall of his bejewelled chest. I caught sight of Prince Wilhelm to the Queen's left. He looked... bored. An elbow rested on the arm of his throne, propping up a face covered by curtains of floppy brown hair. This was the look of a young man who'd grown up too quickly. My nerves melted into a sense of pity towards him. Despite coming from a humble background and having to work hard to get where I was, I'd had the privilege of coming from a place of love, a place where fun during childhood was not just permitted but encouraged. Despite being part of the richest family in the country, Prince Wilhelm's eyes betrayed his inner loneliness.

~~~

After our formal introduction to the Royal family, we were thrust into the tasks of welcoming their Christmas guests, showing them to their rooms and preparing the meal for the welcome feast. The day passed in a blur of new faces, new names and the general dizzying haze that accompanies the first 2 weeks of new employment. At 9pm I found myself in the food hall, keeping the drunken noblemen's goblets topped-up with wine and mead. I stole a glance at Prince Wilhelm to find him feigning interest in conversation from his seat at the head of the table. He went through the motions, smiling, nodding, gesturing, but his smile never reached his eyes.

"Hey, girl" A hand closed around my wrist, causing me to stumble and spill mead over the fat, drunk man to which the hand belonged. "What are you doing? Are you dumb and deaf? I asked you to fill my goblet"

"I- no- I- I'm" I stammered and tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened.

"This one's a pretty one" he barked at the man on his right, a scrawny man with a moustache.