The Masked Royals

2

I perched on the white cushion, staring at the cloudy, night sky. The stars peeked through spaces in the cloud cover, twinkling romantically, winking at passerby's and night gazers. I rested my head against the wall, pulling the loose, sleeping gown closer to my body. Harriet had already scrubbed me down and dressed me for the night, scolding me the entire time for being disrespectful at dinner.

Harriet doesn't have any kids of her own, so she practically raised me. She even moved into the palace when I was 10 so she could be closer and more accessible. Harriet was also responsible for my mother- brushing her hair, sewing her gowns, and any other task that a Queen shouldn't have to do herself.

I saw the stables in the distance, the wooden roof standing just below the tree-line. Peter would be there soon, finishing the last few chores the animals required.

If mother hadn't interrupted, father would have listened, I thought. He would have seen it from my point of view. He's read me the Princess and the Pauper countless times, he must understand.

With that sentiment in my mind, I crept from my chambers towards my father's study. I knew he would be in there late, attending to whatever kingly business was required of him. The floors moaned softly as I eased down the corridor, the lanterns throwing pools of light around me. As I neared the study, I was surprised to hear hurried whispers. I pressed my ear to the crack in the door and realized the whispers were the voices of not only my father, but my mother as well.

"Samuel, please, I know this is upsetting and shocking, but consider her duty." My mother pleaded. "The Kingdom is losing the East; King Harem is threatening to close access to the canals." Her voice was fleeting and high-pitched. "Have some reason, Samuel."

I heard my father's loud sigh and pressed my ear closer against the door.

"My Claudia, I just don't think a union is the answer right now." He responded soothingly. I imagined him gently holding my mother's shoulders as his deep, brown eyes connected with hers.

"You are being a fool, Samuel." My mother chastised. I heard her footsteps pacing around the room.

"What about this supposed love of hers?" My father asked. I heard my mother scoff.

"It is a crush, Samuel. We have all had them. I was in love with one of the servants at her age too...until I met you." Her voice got softer, quieter. "I met you and knew that it was my destiny to rule by your side. I love this kingdom; I cannot see it be torn down."

It was quiet in the study. I only heard the flicker of the fire. My father was probably stroking his beard, pensively considering my mother's words.

"King Harem and is son have been invited to the celebration tomorrow, Cecilia will meet Prince Andrew before we continue this discussion." My father's voice was firm, and his tone was final.

"Of course, I met you before we were wed, I would expect no less in this situation." My mother responded.

I felt my head begin to spin.

Union...Prince Andrew...wed.

Last week in lessons I learned about the arranged wedding of my father and mother. My mother had a reputation in Axathia- beautiful, cold, unattainable. My father, a prince at the time, was being pressured to marry by his father, King Samuel II, and by his 18th birthday, before the coronation, he needed to have a bride. Jessamaye told me that my father was not able to select a bride by that day, even with the dozens of ladies leaving gifts and tossing handkerchiefs in his direction. His father and mother decided an arranged union would be better, so they selected my mother, Lady Claudia, the eldest of House Jove. House Jove commanded the second largest army (besides that of my father's) in the Kingdom, so it was no surprise my mother was chosen as his wife.

Despite the arrangement, my mother and father fell deeply in love. It was the kind of love I felt like I had with Peter.

Stable-boy or not, I was destined for him.

I backed away slowly from the door and clenched my fists.

I will not be sold off to Prince Andrew like a prized horse, rather I will ride away on one with my true love.

I hurried back to my chambers, ducking behind curtains and darting into open doorways whenever a guard or servant was headed in my direction. When I finally got back to my bedroom, I threw on an old, gray cloak and rushed to the window.

A few weeks ago, when my love for Peter intensified, I had him build a ladder out my window. He created it using old rags, tying them together to resemble makeshift rungs. I had two chambers in the palace: one for warmer months and one for colder months. The one I currently resided in was for warmer months, and I insisted on being able to see the garden and touch the sprawling vines outside my window. Little did I know that being this close to the ground would come in handy.

I swung myself over the side of the window, and slowly moved down the cloth ladder. There was a slight breeze in the air, carrying dozens of aromatic smells to my nose. It was mid-Spring, a beautiful time in Rulum.

When I hit the ground, I started running towards the barn, hiking my gown up above my ankles. I took a short-cut between a stretch of trees to avoid guards on their evening patrols. I finally reached the barn, out of breath, and rushed inside.

"Peter!" I called. "Peter, are you still here!?"

I heard rustling next to me and swung around, sighing deeply when I realized it was just one of the horses shifting in the stall.

"Peter!" I shouted.

"Lady Cecilia, quiet down!" His voice responded, appearing in front of me. He had buckets of water in his hand. "I am trying to water the horses."

"Peter, we need to leave right now." I huffed, following him as he placed the buckets into the stalls. "Right now, Peter." I grabbed the back of his white, cotton shirt.

"Did you bring the gown from Vaya, for my sister?" He questioned, peering at me.

"Peter, no, listen, they are arranging for me to marry Prince Andrew, Peter. We need to run away tonight." I took fistfuls of his shirt.

He nodded slowly. "Why don't you want to marry, Prince Andrew?"

"I love you!" I blurted. "You, Peter, you." I shoved my finger into his chest.

"You want to run away then? Where do you suppose we go?" He asked.

I stared at him, pondering his question. I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"I have family, in Thibet, on my father's side I believe. Met them a few times, never got along with my mother." I rattled, spewing information.

"That's quite a way west..." He started. He ran his fingers through his hair.

I stared at him longer. "For me, Peter." I begged.

He took my hands in his, kissed me, and said, "We leave tomorrow night."     

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