The Princess's Rebellion

Chapter 8: The Talk

     **WARNING: Contents of violences are present in this chapter. Viewer discretion is advised**

Rebecca did feel better after spilling everything to Elle; that's another thing that's good about her. She listens. And cares. Rebecca was thinking about that as she was guided back into the castle and towards her room. When they approached her door, Rebecca stopped to turn to face and her friend. She said, "It's ok, I'm alright now. I'm sorry I put all that on you. You didn't deser-".

Rebecca broke off as Elle lunged forward to embrace her. It was as tight as Jasmine's from the night before, making Rebecca's eyes water. She pushed the faint pain from her throbbing ankle aside to focused on her friend. Elle answered,

"Rebecca, I know how hard this is for you. Just know that you aren't alone in this."

"Thank you, Elle. I'm still sorry I put all that on you, but I'm so grateful for a friend like you."

The hug ended a few moments later, and Rebecca was left alone at her door. She let out a sigh and headed into her room. She stopped once she shut the door behind her and took a look around. It was if nothing had changed since that fateful night. The giant bed fit for a king was still in the middle of the wall to her right, the closet in the back next to the bed, the washroom on the other side of the bed, and the rounded window seat to the left. The whole theme of the room was blue and white, the same colors she had when she was 9. She had left everything the same way it had always been, except for one thing; her valuables.

When Rebecca was young, she was gifted with riches and priceless objects from all around by friends, family, and people from Telkmania and other kingdoms. Her father wasn't even upset that he was given a daughter. In fact, he was ecstatic. While other kings thought it might show weakness that their first born was a female, King Marcus saw it as a new era, and he swore to teach her everything he knew so she could take care of the kingdom after he was gone.

Where did those times go?, Rebecca thought. Then she reminded herself that they went with her mother. After the queen's death, the King didn't falter. In fact, he began his work as if nothing happened. He set up more security around the castle, and began to tax the low class for money to improve the quality of medicine in the kingdom. But instead, he used half of it for medicine, and the other for the wall around the upper class village. He continued to tax the poor and created an even deeper rift between the two villages. Rebecca watched helplessly as she observed the suffering the people of the Charles Village went through while her father was raiding their life savings for his own gain. Rebecca soon realized that he was giving the money to the people living in the upper class village so that he could find another woman to marry. Disgusted by how he seemed to have forgotten about his daughter and deceased wife, not to mention the people who really needed that money, Rebecca refused to display any wealth on her dressers or shelves. Instead, she stuffed them into a wooden chest, locked it, and hid it in her closet. She promised to never open it again.

Rebecca let her eyes cross to the small end table that was next to her bed. A lone gem was placed next to an empty glass. It was the only sign that she had any wealth at all, besides her colossal room and furniture. Her mother gave it to her on her 6th birthday when she had it hosted in the castle gardens. Rebecca could still hear her voice echoing in her head...

"This is a very special gem, Rebecca."

"Why?"

"Because there is no other jewel like this. It was given to me by my mother when I turned 6, and now it is yours."

"Where did she get it?"

"That's what I asked my mother. She told me that she had bought it from a young man on the streets that claimed it was from a far away kingdom that is no longer on the map. She told me that as long as I keep it safe, it would keep me safe. Now it will protect you." Rebecca swore that day to protect the gemstone for as long as she lived, and to pass it on so that her mother could be remembered.