Alexandria: The Rebel Princess

Chapter 20 - Part 1

Laughter filled the small pub we resided in for the night. Patrons came and went, never staying long enough to give us more than an uncomfortable glance. The bar keeper spent the rest of the night filling our glasses and bellies happily knowing clearly who I am.

Kalen watched from the end of the table, standing with his arms lightly crossed, leaning against the pilar our table is pushed against. His goblet rests in his hand and slowly raises with each praise and merry cheer. Never had I seen such a smile engrained upon his face till now. Our eyes constantly glanced over one another like we were trying to memorize each detail in secret before one of us is taken again.

Marcus never left my side. Pressed hard against me, he acts like my shield protecting me from the passing stares of commoners. The stares of potential rebels who could still have not been informed of their leaders defeat. There is a shakiness to his actions, though rigid as ever, it was plain to see how losing me, only surfaced the memories of his belated fiance.

"Try this," Marcus grumbles, his scabbed hand slides his cup over into mine.

His eyes trained on my trembling fingers, tapping away on the table. Quickly, I squeeze them around the cup, hiding my anxious twitching. Swishing the dark amber liquid around in my cup, lifting it to my nose, I take a whiff. An odd buttery smell fizzed up into my nostrils. Wrinkling my nose, only causes Marcus to snort.

Howard leans forward across the table and whispers, "It tastes better than it smells."

With a nod, I tip the cup to my lips and take a gulp of the warm liquid. A nasty taste consumed my mouth and I spew it all over the table. Everyone leans back and bursts into laughter.

"Oh, it tastes horrid," I groan, wiping my mouth of any remaining droplets.

Howard walks around to my side, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. "Welcome to the joys of ale, my darling." I glare at him, and he simply leans over, wiping the table with a rag that the bar keeper tossed to him.

"You have to drink this rather than your fancy warm chocolate now," he slaps the damp rack onto the table and teases me.

Cecile glares at Howard and waves him away from my side. Reaching across the table, she takes my hand. "Don't listen to these barbarians, we can always provide tea for you."

Ripping my hand out of her touch like I'm burned by a fire, I whimper, "Tea?"

Kalen shuffles suddenly. My eyes dart to him with sudden uncertainty. "Bruce," he hollers to the bar keeper, "get her a water, would you?"

My lungs deflated with a sigh of relief and the bar keeper, Bruce, brought over a simple cup of water. With a nod, Kalen dismisses Bruce and lifts his glass. "To freedom," he announces.

Everyone lifts their glasses and cheers out in unisense, "To freedom!"

This is the end. They are announcing their victory, my freedom from all that I had fled to.

"To Anne," Wilfrid announces. His blue eyes bore into mine, swirling with sadness. She had been through what I was, and I live because of the men she loved and whom loved her.

Cecile leans over and squeezes his hand, raising her glass. "She would be honoured to have the princess saved in her name." Her gaze shifts to my side, where Marcus never looks up.

His hand rises high and he nudges me. Instantly, I'm pulled from my thoughts and raise my glass beside him. "To Anne," he grumbles out in agreement.

Everyone including myself mournfully cheers, "To Anne!" Such passion slipped from their lips with only her name being said. I could be strong for her, for the people she loved, for this kingdom. I have to be.