A Dove's Tale

Chapter 3

My feet were heavy as I walked to the palace the next morning. Mother and I were very close, and I'd always felt free to talk to her about anything, but I'd been careful not to tell her of my unpleasant exchanges with the princes. She was already sick. There was no need to worry her unnecessarily. And, whether I liked it or not, I needed this job. So, promptly at eight o'clock, I was in the kitchens putting together a breakfast tray for Prince Chevalier. I hadn't thought to ask what he would like, so I got a little of everything and headed to his room. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before knocking. No response. Maybe he was still asleep? I opened the door carefully and stepped inside.

The room was well lit by two unshaded windows to my right, high up above a wall of built-in bookshelves. Those shelves adjoined more, covering half the wall opposite me, until they met a large window hidden by heavy, pale yellow drapes which took up the remainder of the wall. There was a massive golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a light blue floral rug on the center of the wooden floor, and a wooden desk and chair to my right in front of the bookshelves. A white cushioned backless sofa was flush with the foot of the bed on my left, which was large but otherwise ‌simple compared with the elegance elsewhere. The prince was indeed still asleep, judging by the lump under the white covers. I set the tray on the desk and looked at him in dismay. He'd only said to bring him breakfast. Was I supposed to wake him, too?

"Good morning, Prince Chevalier," I called in what I hoped passed as a cheery voice, opening the drapes. The room was overall neat and tidy, but there were dust motes visible in the rays of light shining through the window. I may as well clean up while I was here.

The lump in the bed hadn't moved yet. How aggressive was I supposed to get?

"Prince Chevalier, breakfast is ready," I called again. Still no response. It was then that I got a mischievous streak - poorly timed, I know, but there it was. I was probably going to change his bedding anyway, I reasoned, so I grabbed a corner of the comforter at the foot of the bed - safely out of his reach - and yanked it off of him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep but no less threatening as he rolled over to face me. His sword was next to his pillow. That, and his irritated icy blue glare, set my heart to pounding.

"You don't want breakfast to get cold, Prince Chevalier," I said, smiling sweetly and pretending I wasn't regretting my mistake already. Unfortunately, I had already gotten myself started, and my tongue was still going in spite of the warning bells ringing at the back of my mind. "It would appear that you've been scaring maids out of here too, so I'm assuming your bedding is due for a change. I'll be back in a few minutes." I was heading toward the door with the comforter in hand, simultaneously congratulating and chiding myself, when he caught my arm and spun me around to face him.

"A fragile little dove in a beast's lair should tread more cautiously," he said quietly, his blue eyes flashing a few inches from my face. He held both my arms in an iron grip. It wasn't painful, but I wasn't going anywhere. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that I wondered if he could hear it. At least the sword was still back on the bed and out of his reach.

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Please accept my apologies, your highness," I replied, dropping my gaze in what I hoped would come across as meek submission. He released me with a soft chuckle and disappeared through another doorway, presumably the bathroom.

I stood still for a moment, bewildered. Had he been threatening me, or teasing me? Whatever the case, he hadn't given me any indication that I was to stop what I was doing. I left with the comforter to fetch clean bedding. When I returned, he was seated at the desk, fully dressed with his sword at his hip, eating breakfast. He didn't acknowledge me, and I didn't speak to him. I set about stripping the bedding and changing it. I could feel his eyes watching me, but I did my best to ignore the discomforting feeling. Finally, I heard the door open and close. I looked over my shoulder to verify that he was gone before letting out a sigh of relief. That went significantly better than expected. He hadn't made any ridiculous demands of me. Actually, he hadn't given me any orders at all, now that I thought about it. And I'd made a potentially massive mistake, but somehow managed to get off with little more than a verbal warning and a chuckle.