A Crown Divided By Loyalty

1

Princess Carolina, Princess Vivienne, and their two closest friends, Johanna and Ingrid, strolled through the palace grounds, their horses' hooves rhythmically tapping against the path. The peacefulness of the moment was undeniable, the kind that settled into your bones and made you forget the world beyond the palace's green borders.

Riding slightly ahead, Vivienne turned in her saddle to look back at her friends. "We should do this more often," she said, her voice carrying a sense of contentment. Her hair, loose beneath her riding cap, caught the fading sunlight as she spoke.

Johanna, the most spirited of the group, laughed and urged her horse forward to catch up. "It's the best way to clear your head, right? Just us, the horses, and nothing else."

Carolina smiled, the reins loose in her hands as her horse lazily trotted beside them. "I agree. It's like the world slows down out here." She glanced towards the palace, its regal form silhouetted in the distance. The grand structure had always felt more like home than a symbol of wealth or power. It was a place of memories, of moments like this.

As they neared the stables, the chatter of the stable hands reached their ears. Typically, their conversations would be lighthearted and filled with the everyday bustle of palace life, but something was different today. The tone was hushed and concerned, and a name kept surfacing in their murmurs: Vincent.

Vivienne frowned, her brow knitting as she pulled her horse to a stop just outside the stables. "Did they say Vincent?" she asked, looking back at the others. Her tone was tentative, uncertain.

Ingrid, always sharp-eared, nodded. "I think they did. But why is everyone speaking so low?"

Carolina jumped off the horse and kept looking at the staff, hoping to hear more about their chitchats. As she walked to the stall of her horse, the conversations became clearer.

"... been gone for two days now. No one knows the full story," one stable hand whispered.

"He's in the hospital," another replied. "It sounds serious. I heard it from Elise this morning."

The pit in Carolina's stomach deepened. Why was Vincent hospitalised? She didn't remember him saying anything about a doctor's appointment. How bad was it? Vincent was one of her father's staff members. Even though he had only been a part of the palace for three years, his presence was constant and reassuring. The thought of something happening to someone on the staff was unsettling.

Without exchanging many words, the women silently agreed to head to the palace, their earlier light-hearted mood replaced by a shared worry. The corridors felt quieter than usual as they made their way inside, the familiar grandeur of the palace offering little comfort now. They were due for tea, but the usual warmth that filled those moments together was absent.

As they settled into the drawing room, the clinking of porcelain cups did little to dispel the tension over them. The staff, ever discreet, moved about with careful efficiency, but their expressions held a certain tightness as if they, too, were waiting for something. Finally, the head steward, looking more sombre than they had ever seen him, entered the room with a letter in hand. He bowed to Carolina and Vivienne.

Carolina exchanged glances with Vivienne, sitting stiffly, hands wrapped around her teacup. Johanna and Ingrid were similarly tense; their conversation halted as the steward approached.

"Your Highnesses, ladies," he began, his voice soft but steady. "I bring you some difficult news. Am I allowed to share the news with you in the presence of Lady Ingrid and Lady Johanna?"

Vivienne looked at Carolina; as Carolina was older than her, she had to make the decision.

Carolina nodded. "What is it, Mr. Lind?" With his presence, it could only mean one thing: Vincent.