The Princess's Rebellion

Chapter 4: A Diamond in The Rough

A chill ran down Rebecca's back. She knew that voice.

General Smith's sharp green eyes glared at her, his expression showing no similarity to the kind, gentle face she saw on the night her mother passed away. He had a hardened look of a battle-scarred warrior, his muscles bulging out from his fancy suit. Rebecca almost sighed out loud. Where did the easy-going, friendly man she once knew go?

He got older and wiser, she thought, but so did I.

"I...err- I am looking for Duchess Rachel. I have a letter to her from her friend. I was told she has pink curtains on her carriage, and was to give it to her or her driver," she explained shakily while dropping her voice an octave like she'd practiced with Elle. 

Smith frowned, "I never heard of a 'Duchess Rachel'. Who is her family?"

"I was never told that sir, only her name," she responded back.

Smith started at her for some time. After some silence he asked, "What is your name, son?"

"Uh, Michael, son of Walter."

"And you are a messenger for the King?"

"Y-yes sir." It wasn't just her getting fearful of Smith to convince him that made her studder.

The General scratched his now-long beard. He stared at Rebecca for a while before reaching into his pocket and taking out a small brown pouch. The distinct cling of coins made her glance at it. She widened her eyes as he grabbed several coins out and present them to her. Rebecca was speechless to say the least.

"Take them; they will be more of use to you than myself."

Rebecca took a step back and stammered, "No-no, I couldn't possibly..."

A chuckle came from Smith; the only remainder of his once-booming laughter, "Of course you can. Please. I insist. I need some kind of reassurance that I didn't waste my time tonight."

He leaned down to offer them. Rebecca slowly took them from his hands. She looked up at him with curious eyes. His expression was calm, and she could make out a slight hint of empathy in his wrinkled face. She gave him a grateful look, bowed, then pretended to look back into the carriage. She stashed the money in her bag and gave one last glance over her shoulder at the general. He had already turned around and was walking up the steps into the castle. Rebecca always knew he had a soft spot for the needy; he was just one of the few people she knew that still showed generosity towards the poor. She also felt bad about tricking him, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice.

Rebecca ran along the road once he had gone. Carts and horses flew past her, blind to the fact that they were in the company of the Princess. Once she was far from any eyes that were near the castle, she slowed her pace and smoothly strolled in the middle of the road, close to the right side of the road where carriages were rolling past. She followed them towards the rich homes and estates of the nobles; only a few times she had seen them without needing to sneak out of her home. The houses varied in sizes, but all were large. The closest homes were giant manors, but most of them had their estates and fields outside the kingdom walls where their servants worked.  Some had small stone or bush hedges bordering their patches of grass, gardens and houses. Flowers of all colors dotted the gardens, some of which made Rebecca jealous. She wasn't surprised that not many people or carriages were out now; most of the nobles and their families were invited to the ball. But she couldn't dally, for those carriages would be returning from the castle soon.

Rebecca quicked her pace so that she could reach the outskirts of the top and middle class village before she was spotted by anyone. The large parcels grew smaller as she approached the gates of the village. She could tell that the houses were turning into only 2 or 3 bed chamber homes, but that was a polar difference to the homes in the low class, or more commonly called, the Charles Village. It was named after an old general who protected the village from invaders many years ago. However, it only got worse from here.