Prince Grants awakens at the crack of dawn. The chilly air cools his face as he rises from the bed. He reaches for his royal robe, but he does not see it laying over the back of his chair that sits before the vanity. He scratches the top of his head, confused. Where could I have put the damn thing? A light knock at the door distracts him from his curious fury. "Enter," he says firmly. The door opens slowly and in walks the servant girl, Lucy, his robe folded neatly in her hands.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, Your Grace, but I came to return the robe that you had so graciously loaned to me last night. Which I am very grateful for, I'd like to add," she says softly as she sets the robe down on the disheveled sheets. She bows before him. "Queen Sarah has requested your presence in the dining hall for breakfast. She says that she wants to discuss your plans for the wedding." Grant nods his head as he opens one of his many trunks.
"A splendid idea, Lucy!" he shouts, trying to disguise the dread in his voice. "Tell her that I shall be there as soon as I finish dressing." She nods her head and turns, hurrying from the room. Lucy walks down the many stairs until she reaches the door that leads out towards the apple orchard. She had received orders to collect apples for the morning meal after she had woken Prince Grant. She hurriedly climbs the rickety ladder, picking apples with a wicker basket on her arm. Once the basket is filled, she carefully steps down and proceeds back into the castle. The queen had also requested that Lucy make some homemade apple pie.
She takes her skirt with her free hand as she climbs the stone steps. She enters the kitchen, where everyone is hussling and rushing around, trying to finish up the morning meal. Lucy moves to the side as Igraine rushes out with the silver platter with fine china cups. "Out of the way! Out of the way!" she shouts as she exits. Lucy smiles and drops her skirt, walking through the hurrying clan of people. She walks further back, standing at the wooden cutting block that Marcel had created for her from an old Elder tree when she had first arrived. She sighs in remembrance.
Marcel had been dead for three and a half years now, and his children and wife had been shipped off somewhere towards the states. She sets the basket on the ground and begins to cut them into fourths. She's busy removing the seeds from the core when someone taps on her shoulder. She turns her head to face Albus. "Yes, Albus?" she asks politely, turning back to the other apples.
"Would you care to tell me why you were wearing Prince Grant's robe last night when you were speaking with the queen?" he asks snottily. Lucy stands straight up, her knife sticking straight out. She turns her head to look at him again.
"Prince Grant had permitted me to wear it last night since it was so cold." Albus nods his head, walking around Lucy, like a predator startling its prey.
"Did you return it to him?" She nods her head.
"Of course I did. I brought it back to him this morning after I had woken him. I was grateful to him." He nods his head, pursing his lips.
"Let's just keep this in mind, Lucinda. You are a servant, he is a prince," he remarks rudely. Lucy looks at him, confused.
"I'm sorry, sir, but am I missing something?" Albus shakes his head, his hands behind his back.
"Lucy, be warned. Fornicating with the queen's new husband is a dangerous game. You don't want to be caught in a dangerous game. The queen's temper is something that you do not want to toy with." He turns around, standing before her. Lucy looks at him, her lips pursed.
"Forgive me, sir, but I have no intentions of "fornicating" with Prince Grant. He is a very nice man, but I do not wish to anger the queen. She has done more for me and I am grateful to her. I wouldn't dare try to ruin her chances at happiness." Albus nods his head, a coy smile on his face.
"Alright then, Lucinda. I was just making sure you were aware of what you could be getting yourself into." Lucy nods her head, fighting the urge to stab the small blade into her cutting block.
"Thank you, sir, but I can manage myself." Albus nods his head and walks out of the kitchen, leaving her to finish cutting the apples.
