The Cursed Lands: A Dream of Apples and Roses

Chapter Four - Gryffyn

I had regretted taking Pridy to the portrait gallery almost as soon as we cleared the doorway. But then we were standing in front of my father's portrait. I remembered his impatience at being painted, how much he had ranted and raved at the wasted time. But mother had somehow managed to convince him to stand for the artist.

I stared at the image of my father, at the smouldering rage painted into his eyes and lips. "That," I started, my voice rough with emotions I didn't want to face, "Is my father, the late King Firon Ivan Lockwood of Northmere." Beside me, Pridy shivered. We continued to stare at the portrait until I couldn't take it any longer and led her away. My thoughts were in turmoil as we continued on through the castle in the direction of the garden, her hand still on my arm.

Suddenly, I spoke, startling even myself. "He was thrown from his horse. At least, we think he was thrown. The girth strap on his saddle was broken." I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing. "All that we could recover of him was a hand and a leg. The wolves had gotten to him before we could find him." She murmured her condolences, her words registering in some part of my brain that she had lost a parent as well, but all I could really think of were the memories of the man he had been. "Father was...difficult. He was a hard man who ruled without mercy or kindness. To be honest, his death was a good thing."

I knew I had shocked her, could feel her wide-eyed stare as we walked, but I refused to look down, to acknowledge the turmoil she was probably feeling. I heard her gasp as she figured out the truth staring her in the face. "You are the King of Northmere." When her hand dropped from my arm I closed my eyes, steeling myself against the inevitable rejection I was sure to receive. My feet carried me a few more steps before I stopped, but still I refused to turn. "I was," I said, my voice rough from barely containing my emotions, "but now I am nothing more than a beast."

I stalked off, not caring if she followed or not. Well, at least that is what I tried to tell myself. In truth, I knew that I had badly botched the handling of that situation. Cursing myself again for taking her to the portrait gallery, I stalked through the castle until I stood in the library. When I realized that she was not following, I hung my head and sighed. Once I would have tore through the castle, demanding that she join me. But now...

Refusing to wallow, I briskly headed to the stables to saddle up Maximus. If Pridy no longer visited, then perhaps it was for the best.

***

After an hours ride I was decidedly more levelheaded. I still regretted the folly of the portrait gallery, but it could not be undone. Instead, I would focus on the future, even if it didn't seem like I would be able to find a way out of my current predicament. Sure, I had imagined that maybe Pridy was my true love. But in reality, she didn't affect me in the way I hoped my true love would. Not that I had any real experience with how it should be, but I had watched servants as their affections grew for one another, how they were inseparable and didn't seem to notice the world around them. Sighing, I turned Maximus out in a paddock and made my way back to the castle with no real destination in mind. And yet, I somehow found myself back in the library.

From scent alone I could tell that Pridy had been in the room recently. I followed her scent to a small alcove which held a single armchair and small table and looked out over the castle grounds. She was not there, but she had left something behind. Picking up the folded piece of parchment with my name on it, I was astonished by the contents of the lengthy letter.

Gryffyn,

In light of recent events, I feel that it is only fair and honorable that I am honest with you. My hope is that we can remain friends despite my deception, even if it was not done intentionally. I am not, in fact, named Pridy. I am Princess Ciara Gwendolyn Mistguard of Belcoast.