The Nine Princesses Revised Edition (Volume One)

Chapter 30: Consequences

Everything had seemed normal that night. The princesses had eaten supper with their father and he had joked about Joc's cooking. He and Joc were good friends, enjoyed roasting each other, and it heartened Maelyn to see her father acting like his old self. In the two years since Runa's passing, he had aged and grayed, with new lines weighing down his features. But that evening, he seemed almost happy.

He went to bed and never woke up. It was Joc who delivered the news the next morning, after Nira, the queen's old nanny, assembled the nine confused princesses in the library. Their initial reaction was blank disbelief. It wasn't possible Father was gone. Not when they'd already lost their mother.

Yet they had not finished losing people. Only six months later....

Maelyn clenched her teeth and slammed her fist against the mattress. She hated when this happened. For weeks on end, she could maintain composure, stay strong for her kingdom and her family. Then these random nights came when her heart cracked and a torrent of imprisoned tears gushed through the fissure. No way to stop them. She covered her face and gave way; the sobs wrenching out of her, harsh and unbeautiful. No voice in them, just a string of long gasps.

When the tide passed, she sat up in bed, her face soaked and swollen. She fumbled in her bedside drawer for a handkerchief and her fingers brushed against a new journal she had purchased at the market that year. She had decided to adopt her father's habit of journaling, but seldom felt inspired to write. Only on nights such as these did the words flow freely.

It took barely a minute to dab her face, fetch a quill, and light the candle again. She remained on the bed, eyes reddened, still unable to breathe through her nose. She had already written about her parents' deaths. Time to pluck the next splinter out of her heart by writing about the servants.

When Father died, Uncle Jarrod came to the castle. I was seventeen. Father's advisors suggested I be crowned early, to give the grieving land a new queen. Uncle Jarrod declined. He named himself Regent of Runa and suggested we all 'carry on' until I reached age twenty and could lawfully be crowned. That law—by the way—is Uncle Jarrod's law, and he could easily have changed it.

We carried on. But it felt forced and artificial. The servants were distraught, too, because they had loved my father. Nobody could get used to the new way of things. I argued a lot with Father's advisors. Some of the maids became surly. An odd sort of... twitchiness... came over the staff, and I wish I had taken more notice.

It was the first night of October—I remember because that's when the fires get lit in our chambers again, after the summer warmth ends. One of the maids set it burning and wished me good night, and I felt happy to have the fire back. But my sleep was disrupted by troubling dreams. I woke up and read a book to get through the dark hours. Just before dawn, I heard a commotion outside my window. Thought it might be a bear. But when I looked out... I saw them. Our maids, our guards, our ladies-in-waiting. Carrying satchels and trunks, rushing into the forest like runaway thieves. I didn't have to ask why. Father was gone. They would no longer serve us, the false princesses.

Her face pinched as memory revived the pain of that morning. She dabbed her eyes but knew the writing would help her, like draining poison from a wound.

Some of my sisters would not accept this explanation, especially Coco. She argued that Joc would not have abandoned us, or the other servants, like Tessie and Nira, who had known us since we were babies.

Heidel thought maybe they felt unsafe. Father had given the realm an appearance of strength, which now rested on a 17-year-old girl. Only a matter of time before marauders claimed the castle and slaughtered us all. The servants were just getting out beforehand.