Stolen Kingdom

III

That evening, I am laying in my bed with a book when there's a soft knock on my door. I allow them inside, and Father pokes his head in. I frown at this. He never comes to my chambers unless something is troubling him. He uses his cane to limp over, the mattress dipping when he sits on the edge of it by my legs, a strange look on his face.

"Has something happened?" I inquire naturally, sitting up in concern.

"No, no," he says, patting my knee as a comforting gesture. It only furthers my curiosity. "Well, I just. I feel as if you consider me cruel for the current events taking place. I know you do not wish to marry until you are ready, but darling, I will not be here much longer. All I want is to ensure your safety and the kingdom's protection. You understand that, don't you?"

"Of course, Father. But I believe you will be here longer than you think."

He offers a sad smile. "Ah, but I do not wish to chance fate."

He kisses my forehead and uses his cane to push himself back to his feet. He closes the door softly behind him, and I am alone again just as quickly.

I wish I was not bound to the castle.

I wish I lived an entirely different life.

***

Clarice barges into my room the next morning while Mary prepares my bath. She seems flustered, her blond, graying hair falling loose from her braid. She carries a dress over her arm, a new one I've yet to see. It's a pale red with lace sleeves, the skirt pure silk. She holds it up, beaming at me, and the words spill from her lips before I have the chance to speak.

"I made it last night when I heard the news. Oh, you must try it on, Annaliese! I could not get you in for a fitting, but I know your curves well enough by now. It should fit wonderfully." She shoves the fabric into my arms, ushering me into the tub where Mary chuckles in amusement.

"Clarice, how do you work so quickly yet never fail to create a masterpiece?" Mary asks the woman near her age kindly.

"It's a gift, I suppose," the other woman says, giggling. "Annaliese, do hurry up. I'm impatient to see how it looks."

I shake my head at the two, unable to hide my smile.

My bath is short with their pestering, and both help me into the gown once I am finished. As they gush over the look, I remember what Clarice said when she arrived. "Clarice," I start, grabbing her attention, "what is this news you speak of?"

She gasps in surprise. "Darling, you don't know?"

I frown in reply.

"King Jacob of Marindale contacted your father the day of the first ceremony and apologized for his tardy. He could not make it with his busy schedule. But he is coming today because he is interested in you! He wants to join the competition to win your hand in marriage," she rambles, her eyes alight with excitement.

Mary places a hand on her chest in shock. "King Jacob of Marindale?" she echoes, disbelieving.

Clarice nods rapidly.

I sigh. I had wished for news more, well, newsworthy. I will admit, though, that it is quite a big deal. King Jacob is the youngest king in all of the kingdoms, forced to take his father's throne when the man died suddenly of disease. He has been king since only fifteen years of age. Marindale is said to be a thriving kingdom will all the resources a civilization could ever desire, and I have heard no ill spoken words of the king. In fact, at only twenty-three, he is rumored to be the most adored king of our generation.