Her Portrait

Some Things Are Overheard

"I just don't understand how a fire could start in there in the first place..."
"It was that maids fault, if she hadn't lit it then the room wouldn't have burned..."
"Don't blame the maid; blame the princess she should've known better..."
"Enough!"
Arianthe lay pretending to be asleep whilst listening to her father and his council debate. Without opening her eyes she knew she was lying in a spare bedroom next to the privy council, the walls were paper thin and the girl could not help but overhear everything they were saying.
Trying to ignore the throbbing in her head and the buzzing in her ears she lay still and concentrated on what her father was about to say.
"I don't know who stared the fire and neither do I care, but it does not give us the right to lose our heads. The correct thing to do is to move on. The Princess shall have new chambers and everything that was destroyed shall be replaced."
Arianthe thought this was fair and uncharacteristically kind of her father; there must be some catch.
"But, your majesty, what about her maid?"
Pricking up her ears, the princess listened hard for news about her best friend.
"Arianthe's maid suffered considerable injuries as a result of this fire and it's a miracle she survived the night, however no one must inform the princess of this; we must tell her she perished in the flames. It will only be complicated if we try to save her."
There were grunts of approval at this.
Arianthe opened her eyes for the first time and stared at the ceiling in absolute shock. Agnes? Injured? Because of her? She could not believe her ears and lay there completely frozen whilst trying to understand what she'd heard.
But she didn't have much time to be frozen as she suddenly heard lots of feet trundling out of the room next door. Her father must have dismissed some of the council.
"Sir Denver, check and see if the Princess is awake, if she is take her somewhere else. Then stand guard outside this door." She heard him say.
Arianthe hastily lay down and feigned sleep, she needed to listen to what they had to say, she heard Sir Denver open the door, pause and then shut it again.
When King Eustace was alone with Clarke and the others, she heard him lock the door, sit down again and begin to talk again.
"Well then, gentlemen, we have succeeded. May we congratulate Mr Clarke for his ingenious idea of getting rid of the maid. Now Arianthe is alone with no friends, no mother and no motivation."
"Why thank you, your majesty." She heard Clarke's simpering reply.
"Now, our plans for our friend downstairs. As Princess Arianthe is nearing the age of 18 she is nearly of age to be joining her. I want her not to find out about our friend downstairs until the day she joins her."
Their friend? Who was their friend? What did they mean by that?
"Of course, My Lord, we have thought of nothing else all these years." Clarke said.
Then it hit her. They must be talking about Kassandra. They were going to put her in a portrait with her. She'd be trapped in there forever. What was she to do?
However she had little time to think, there were chairs scraping next door and the sound of hushed voices going down the corridor. The door opened and Clarke entered.
"It's good to see you awake, My Lady," he tried to smile kindly but it ended up looking like the sort of grimace you'd make if you had a tummy ache. "Come with me and I'll take you to your new quarters."
He put his arm around Arianthe's waist - a little too low for her to be comfortable - and escorted her out.