Of Spinning Gold and Song

| Thirty Two | The Love

The room they gave me to sleep in was as beautiful as it was stifling.

The old room that I had spent barely any time in had been beautiful. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But that was no longer true; this one was prettier.

The wall had a sort of golden detailing on the heavy stone that gave the illusion of twinkling gems inlaid in the stone. Two heavy tapestries hung on the walls, bring and rich in color with such vibrant scenes of the meadows that I thought for sure I was outside. From the ceiling hung a beautiful crystal chandelier. The bed was canopied and swathed with so much golden cloths that I feared if I laid down on it, I would be engulfed in the fabric and never seen from again.

It was beautiful.

But it was also a prison.

It hadn't escaped me how the beautiful ornate wooden door had no doorknob from the inside. Or how there were no windows; the only light came from the beautiful chandelier. There weren't even torches or something on the walls, just a million twinkling candles far, far too high for me to reach.

No, it was no bedroom. It was cleverly disguised to look as so, as though someone had designed it to create the illusion of being outside and to use so much richness that it would be impossible to miss the splendor. That any inhabitant would bless every star that they were lucky enough to stay here. But I knew better. It was a prison and there was no way out.

I had wanted to stay with Rosie. But upon arrival I had been yanked away by a million servants, all insisting that someone of such noble stature such as I had to have my own quarters. And so they had shut me in here and I had been so preoccupied with ogling the surroundings that I almost missed how stifling it was.

I almost missed the eyes of the queen on her balcony far above as I had been ushered in.

Well, I hadn't strictly seen here. But I had felt as though I was being watched and when I looked up to see those stony grey eyes... who else could it be?

Prince Lawrence had hardly spoken two words to me after that fateful night. He had confessed, however, that he had meant to kill Rosie as well; the queen wanted nobody of royal blood left alive. And now I could only fear that she had brought me here to this room of no escape so I could die by her hand.

And my sister as well.

I wanted Rosie. It was cruel, to play with me in this such a way. To give her back to me after that whole dragon ordeal, and then yank her away as soon as I could reach.

Unfortunately, being here alone gave me plenty of time to think of everything that had happened. Despite Pap, the one that had led to all the regret and pain, I couldn't help but keeping thinking of Mam.

After all this time she really had been a princess. And though I had vowed to hate and detest her after she had as good as abandoned me, I couldn't fault her anymore. Not really, not the way I had. Instead I was filled with only regret that I hadn't taken more advantage of the time we had had together. If she was to lose both of her daughters after already losing her husband, I wasn't sure she would survive it in her fragile state.

That was, assuming she still realized we existed.

I chastised myself for that thought as soon as it escaped. Of course she did and I couldn't fault her for anything. She had had her birthright taken away from her, dropped off in a strange kingdom with no friends or family to trust after being used to a life of privilege. Pap had been the one to believe her and to run away with her, and when he had disappeared, she had lost her one last anchor.

Being scared of horses? Of course she would be, after her own horse Falada had been murdered. The delusions of being a princess? That was self explanatory. After all, I assumed she had felt safest when she was still a little princess with a whole bright future as queen in front of her.