The Burden of Freedom

Chapter 4

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft white glow. If I tilt my head back at just the right angle, I can see out into the night sky, the stars twinkling to greet me. They beckon me to come to them, to leave the comfort of my room and step into the night beyond the walls.

Despite my exhaustion from earlier, I can't sleep. My mind races, my heart pounds, and no matter which way I toss and turn in my bed, I simply can't close my eyes and rest.

Instead of trying to feint sleep some more, I roll out of bed. It is a matter of minutes before I'm dressed in a pair of breeches and a loose shirt, the clothes of a common man.

It's so much easier dressed like this, not having to worry about tripping over my skirts or getting mud on my petticoat. Rose had made these for me upon my request, though she had been very reluctant about it.

If my father knew I owned mens clothing, he would kill me.

Good thing he doesn't, I think to myself with a grin.

I tie my thick dark hair back in a loose bun with a piece of twine and then tuck it under an old cap. Hopefully now, dressed in men's clothing and with my hair back, people will assume I am just a messenger boy.

I slip out of my room, peering around the corner of the door before proceeding to dash down the steps.

Outside, the night air is cool and crisp, making my lungs burn slightly. The soft breeze tastes of coming rain, brushing over my face, caressing my hands. I marvel for a few moments, just taking it all in.

This is my favorite time, when the world is quiet except for the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the crickets. Behind me, the fountain gurgles, water trickling over black stone. A firefly twinkles in the sky far above me, floating on the breeze as if it is trying to join the stars.

I go to a tree at the far corner of the courtyard. The rough bark underneath my hands feels like the skin of an old man, wrinkled and craggy. Its firmness under my fingers is comforting and I pull myself up into the branches.

A careful foot here, a tug on a branch there, and soon I am halfway up the tree, hidden from the ground by a blanket of leaves. I can feel a peaceful smile growing on my face as my cares disappear. I left them back in my room, and now it's just me and this tree.

I reach my hand up again, but instead of meeting a brach, I grab onto something warm and soft. I curse, flinging myself backwards without thinking. Suddenly, there is nothing under my feet and my stomach does a flip flop.

However, I am not falling, suspended in the air. For a second, I wonder when I learned to fly. Then I feel the warm hands under each one of my shoulders, holding me up. I reach up and hoist myself back to my previous perch, this time eyes searching the darkness.

It takes me a moment to find the figure hiding in the branches. The shock of his blonde hair against the dark green gives him away, a beacon of light in the shadows of the night.

I curse under my breath. It's Silas.

Of course I would be lucky enough to choose the tree that has one of my "wonderful" suitors in it. My heart pounds.

"Princess Evelynne?"

Shoot.

Somehow, as I was falling, the cap had become dislodged from my head, my dark hair spilling down my back. There is no use denying that it's me now. I can only hope that he will keep this a secret from my father.

I glare back at him and say nothing. Like they always say, silence is your best friend in a conflict.

"Why are you... dressed like that?" he asks after a moment. I can't tell if it's a serious question or if he is trying to hold in laughter. He raises his eyebrow with a smirk and I realize that it could be a bit of both. I scowl up at him.