A Terrible fate

Part 20

I let out a heavy breath as I gripped the edge of the curtain a little bit more, finally having a grasp on it with one hand. I struggled for a moment, trying to reach out and grab the curtain with my other as well before both sets of my fingers had a hold of the heavy fabric. 

I could use it to pull myself closer to the window, and then I could tug the curtains down, and finally, I would be able to see the stars again.

So I pulled, harshly on the edges of the damask curtain, trying to tug myself forward to the window.

I felt the heavy fabric grow as I started to inch forward again before something cracked and it went slack. The metal rob slammed into my head, a heavy ringing noise sounding out into the quiet room as it bounced against the stone as well.

It shattered the silence of the chambers, and I barely heard the worried shouts as the door burst open before everything went black again.

"You're sure she'll be alright?"

I could barely hear Sir Lionel's voice at the endgame of my mind as he fretted.

"The princess should be fine. The curtain isn't heavy and it didn't fall from a great height. She only passed out because it hit her head and then her head hit the floor, and because of how weak her constitution has been as of late."

A cold hand was pressed against my forehead, I whined at it wanting to sink further into the warmth of the bed around me.

"She just needs some rest and a cold compress on her head for a while to help with any swelling or bruising."

"Will she wake soon?"

"She seems to be coming around now."

I must have fallen back into sleep. When I opened my eyes I was back in my bedroom, the sun setting beyond the ledge of my windowsill. I was on the lounge tucked between large towering bookshelves in the semi-circle of the old tower that had once been next to the room my brother and I shared. When we were born my father had torn the wall down to expand the room. He had wanted us to share a room until we were of age, something of comfort and necessity to twins he had always said, we shared the womb so we should share a room until we were grown.

He had wanted to rip out the tower, but it was structurally important to the walls surrounding our family's private gardens. So part of it stayed the section that faced the interior of the gardens, leaving a small semi-circle alcove that my uncles had turned into a little personal library and reading nook for my brother and me.

Like all things in our shared space, the items on the left were his and the ones on the right were mine. The left side of the room had his bed, his toys, his desk, and his vanity while the right side of it held all of mine. The closet on the left was his and the one on the right was mine. They had a shared space in between them where we kept all of our shiny accessories. Our crowns, jewels, and other ceremonial items were stored and displayed in the small circle room that we shared between our closets.

There was one bathroom, with one tub and shower feature and one soaking space. The right side cabinets were mine and the left ones were his, the two sinks were split in the same way.

Our sitting room was split more literally down the middle. I favored the soft greens and grays of our family's colors while he liked the bright and bold blues and silvers of it. So the sitting room we shared had blue and silver furniture on the left side with soft green and gray accents, while the right side had sage green and gray furniture with pale blue and silver accents.

My side featured more cushions and lounging spots, while he had more of a rigid structure to it.

It took our Uncle Altan months to design it all. To "Match each of them in their individuality but to make it also work well together as one cohesive space. Pleased for each one separately but also together as a whole." as he always put it.

My favorite spot was the little tower reading nook. My brother's shelves were on the left, filled with books about all sorts of things. He enjoyed reading but he didn't do it nearly as often or much as I did and he had no particular preference when it came to the subject of his books.

My shelves were filled with books about old myths, stories, and fables from around the world. Different languages, skirts, and types from scrolls to the classical hardbound style of the book lay piled high and thick on it.

I was sitting there as I read one of the newest novels that Uncle Ashur had brought back from his most recent travels to Reobeth. It was an old fable about a flower god, who spent all their time in the fields wallowing over the death of all of their mortal lovers. It was a story about how all the flowers were made. The flower god was so distrustful and wanted to remember all their lives forever, so they made a special flower that signified each one to live and grow in their lover's name for eternity.

It was beautiful really. I was about halfway through it, again. I have read it more than five times already. When I heard the door to my quarters slam open, then the sitting room ones.

I put my book down and slipped out of my bedroom to see my mother standing there frantically running around, shoving things off shelves and throwing open trunks and chests in his search for something.

"Momma?"

He whipped around and I screamed.

My eyes shot open. I was soaked through with a cold sweat as I looked around dizzily from where I lay. The image of my mother, blood streaming from his eyes and mouth, and a gaping hole where his heart should have been was flashing before me even though my eyes were open and I was out of the dream memory of that day.

I pushed myself up from the bed, I felt nauseous. Lionel was there in an instant, putting his hand on my forehead, and speaking to me.

I couldn't hear him, not the words he was saying. I heard his voice but not what he was trying to tell me. I threw myself away from him and leaned over the other side of the bed before I was sick.

After I had spilled my stomach onto the floor I heard him again, felt his hand on my forehead again. I could see his face now, he looked very concerned. His mouth was moving but I still couldn't understand him. Was he speaking a language I knew or had my mind finally crumpled all the way?

There was more movement along the edge of my vision, I tried to turn and look but it made the room spin. I was so dizzy and anytime I moved I felt like I was going to be sick again.

Someone must have gone to get the doctor because he was back in the room soon. A maid was moving quickly by the bedside to clean up the mess I had made, I should remember to apologize for it later. Maybe she would like some flowers from Momma's garden?

"Princess?" Lionel's voice came in suddenly and loudly, and I jolted.

"Princess?' He spoke again, quieter this time. His stare was boring to me before he turned back to the doctor, "you said she should be fine! She isn't fine!"

"Her constitution is much weaker than it should be! She hasn't been eating or sleeping as a child her age would normally and she's been sick for months. Usually, an injury like this would barely have affected her!"

"You should have thought of that earlier! You need to figure out what to do to make her stop-"

"I-" My words fell out, cut off, shaky. It barely sounded like my voice at all.

Had I even spoken?

It didn't sound like me, it didn't even feel like I had spoken at all.

Lionel and the doctor were still arguing, but the maid by my bedside popped up. Her brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she just stared at me, mouth agape.

"Princess did you just... Was that..?" her voice was just above a whisper, not loud enough to bring the men behind me out of their conversation.

"I'm - I'm. I'm F-Fi-Fi-" Why couldn't I say it?

"OH MY GODS!" She shrieked, jumping up from the floor, her hands flying to her mouth. They really shouldn't be near her face at all, doesn't she know what she was cleaning up?

"What? Is something wrong?"

"What did she expel?!"

Lionel and the doctor were immediately up, the latter rushing around the bed to see what could have caused the maid such a reaction.

"She spoke! The princess spoke!" She was squealing again, jumping a bit now.