The King's Beloved

1| Invitation

"Abigail, return at once please! We must get supper prepared for the boys!" My mother's soft voice echoes through the woods. I pout at the house, upset that I must return. I look down at the flowers in my hand and watch the deer that pass through the fields.

"Mother, can't I stay outside? It's absolutely stunning," I whisper the last phrase and I stare at the dark green trees in awe. I love the outdoors, it is easily my new favourite part of Great Britain.

"Now!" Her voice goes stern and I sigh in exasperation. I pick myself off from the ground, and dust off my yellow dress. Something a bit less conservative for my new surroundings. Back in North American, home, my mother and I would wear less long gowns and more often, canvas feeling dresses that reached past our knees. However my change in wardrobe has been more than fascinating and intriguing, full of long gowns, dark colours and puffy fabrics.

I trot into our new house, basking in the scent of soup being made in our kitchen.

"Chop the onions and place them in the stew. I will prepare the bread." My mother breathes out in obvious fatigue. She wipes her flour covered fingers on her brown apron wrapped around her waist. I nod at her and offer her a smile, while I tuck my long, dark hair into a bun. I usually let my thick locks hang on my back, down to my mid back while at home.

I chop the onions, groaning when I feel tears stinging my eyes.

I wish there was something to use that would eliminate these tears. There should be an invention for that. Absolute nuisance it is.

"When are the boys returning, mother?" I ask her.

"No less than half an hour, darling. But we must hurry, I believe your father has some exciting news for us." She explains and I nod at her curtly. My father works as an Apothecary and often is sent across our globe. Currently, England has the most advancements in health medicine which means my father must be here.

I cut potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, herbs and other legumes, throwing them into the large pot sitting on the stoves. I take out our wooden bowls the craftsman at a shack down the road gifted us. I set the oak table with the bowls, silver spoons and a cloth. My mother takes the bread from the oven and quickly carries it to the table. She gives me a gracious smile and I return it.

My mother is absolutely beautiful without realizing it. She has light auburn hair, with crystal green eyes and fair porcelain skin. She's not very tall, only 5'6 and I surpassed her height years ago. With her slender frame and moderate height, my father stood no chance in her game and fell in love instantly. She is as gentle as a deer, but can also be feral when upset.

Unfortunately I didn't inherit much from my mother. What with my black, wavy hair, olive skin, chocolate brown eyes and a tall frame, just reaching 5'8. I've always been envious of my mother'a gorgeous doll like features.

My mother and I turn out heads when we hear the wooden door to our home rattle and open. In walks my father and brother.

"Hurry! The food has just been prepared, it's still warm!" My mother gestures to my father and takes his coat when he walks in. He gives her a gentle kiss on her cheek and my mother melts into his embraces.

"Hello, Bee!" My brother greets and I grin at his old nickname. He calls me Bee, from the letter 'b' in my name. One day he saw me running away from a bee and he just stuck with the name. It still doesn't quite make sense to me, but I've grown to love the name.

"How was work?" I ask him as I wrap my arms around his waist, breathing in his oak scent. Most people nowadays have no access to perfumes or scents, however my father is very innovative. He's conjured up essences and scents for everything in the family.

My mother's is a light rose scent, infused with the rich petals. My father's is a fresh mint scent, using the decadent leaves. Anderson, my brother, was given an oak scent. My father used oak bark and pine needles to create the woodsy scent. Mine, is a fragranced  fruity scent, with mango and strawberry. 

We all sit down, and my father begins cutting up the loaf of bread, placing some on all our plates as my mother pours the soup.

"Father? Mother said you might have some news for us?" I inquire softly as I take the bowl of soup from my mother's fingers.

He looks up at me and takes his glasses off, sighing lightly. "Always the curious one, my dear Abigail," He laughs and I smile innocently. "But yes, I do have news. I made a friend of a servant who works at the royal house. He has invited us to a dinner the Queen is hosting tomorrow night. Everyone in the town shall be there, and he expects us to be there." He explains and my mother gasps.

"A Queen's dinner? That''s incredible, sweetheart! We have to get ready! What will the kids wear? What will WE wear? We must begin now, I have to get your suits pleated and our gowns pressed! Oh dear, a Queen's dinner! We will visit the royal castle!" She breathes out in excitement as her cheeks flush with colour. My brother and I look at each other, bursting out into laughter. 

"Darling, please calm down!" My father barks out with laughter and my mother quickly sits down, flushing a bright red colour. I laugh at her harder, feelings tears run down my face.

"We're going to see the QUEEN!!" She squeals loudly.

"Are we all invited, father?" Anderson asks and my father nods his head. He takes a sip of his soup before turning his head back up.

I'm going to the Queen's palace!