The Placeholder

Chapter 14

When I wake up the next morning, it is already noon.

I groan as the glowing, red numbers on my digital alarm clock blare their disapproval. I hadn't set the alarm itself, and my curtains are so thick that the light from outside couldn't disturb my slumber.

The numbers are enough, beading into my skull.

You're a real Princess, aren't you? Cowering under the covers the day after your wedding.

I reach without enthusiasm to turn the red light away from my sleep-blurred eyeballs.

I take my time shuffling into a seated position, my back supported by the bedframe behind me. I remember waking up several times throughout the night. Each time being chased by the crescendo of a brightly coloured dream. The dreams would gradually suspend, but I would always wake right before I reached the c****x. Leaving me unresolved and with a racing heart every single time. Although I know the basic structure of my wild dream scenario, I can't recall any of the actual details. Only that they were disorienting and far too bright.

"You look like you succumbed to a tornado."

I yell as someone stands, unmoving, at the end of my bed frame. Staring straight at me.

Before I can think my actions through, I throw myself off the side of my bed so I can get away from the intruder. My feet get tangled in the bedsheets when I try to swing them over the ledge. I figured if my intruder approaches me to push me back down, I can at least send a good kick into their stomach and scream for help.

The bedsheets corrupt my plan and instead, send me sailing face first to the floor—taking the sheets and most of the blanket with me. The oxygen I had been collecting for a hardy scream slips out of my lunges the moment my stomach smacks the ground. My elbows vibrate from the impact.

I frantically roll onto my back, clawing at the sheets, which had only tightened after my fall. Any moment now, my assailant will seize me—most likely by my throat—and choke me so that I can't make a sound.

I suck in as big of a breath as I can, and release it like a fire breathing dragon. My throat erupts with high-pitched noise.

"Rhoswen, what on earth are you screaming about?"

My eyes are wild as I stare at the intruder. A female with dark hair and hazel eyes…

I almost cry out in relief.

"Thank goodness. It's just you."

"It is just me," Cristobel agrees dryly. "Who did you think I was?"

Before I can respond, my door swings open. Crashing into the wall behind it. A boy with cropped hair and dark skin barges in. His brown eyes are alert and his right hand is hovering cautiously over the handle of a sheathed sword. 

"What's going on here?" He scans the room before turning to Cristobel. "Why is the Princess on the floor?"

"That's what I was trying to piece together," She responds slowly. Her eyes remain glued on me. "I believe her dreams followed her into reality."

The boy relaxes his stance as he assesses my current state. The blood in my cheeks rise as I imagine how ridiculous I must look, sprawled on the floor.

I sit up and yank the sheets from their deadly hold on my ankles.

"Why are you in here watching me sleep?" I demand once I am standing. "I thought someone had come in here to hurt me."

"I wasn't watching you sleep."

"Oh, really?" I challenge. "Because when I woke up, you were looking right at me."

It is Cristobel's turn to be embarrassed.

"I came up here to wake you," She explains. "You had already slept through breakfast, I didn't think it would be good for you to skip lunch too." Her face twists with concern as she adds, "I changed my mind when I noticed the prominent shadows under your eyes. It was clear you haven't been getting a good sleep since you've arrived here—possibly longer. I was going to leave you to rest. Right as I turn to go, I hear you shuffling and grunting. I looked back and you were sitting up. I thought for a second that you might have been sleepwalking."

I brush myself off. My physical assessment is clean, except my elbows that I'm sure will form bruises—and that obviously isn't a big deal. However, my mother would have thrown a fit if she was here. She doesn't approve of any type of markings on my body. Especially stretch marks, which I rarely ever have simply because my weight doesn't change often. I never saw her point. She couldn't care less about makeup and jewelry, but she cares about the natural things that are far harder to change—if possible at all.

The boy shares a knowing glance with my personal assistant. He appears to be around my age. A birthmark a shade or two darker than his skin tone rests on the curve of his chin.  He wears a blue t-shirt and matching round-rimmed glasses.

"Hello," I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. "Thanks for coming In here to make sure I wasn't dying."

I was hoping he would laugh at my expense. He maintains professionalism and nods curtly.

"You're welcome."

Cristobel wraps a casual arm around his shoulder. "This is Leo. He's Harriet's cousin, and he's shy around girls so it takes time for him to warm up."

Leo ducks his head and waves politely. "Pleased to meet you, Rhoswen."

Harriet-Makeba's cousin is a guard too?

I give Leo a fatigued smile. "The pleasure is all mine."

I look down to my bright, yellow pajama bottoms. 

"We will let you do your thing," Cristobel says. She begins to pull on Leo's sleeve, guiding him out.

"Wait, where is Harriet?"

Cristobel turns back. "Right. Harriet received an email from the college this morning. They want her to do a pre-exam. I think the college just wants to scrape off some applicants by knocking the lowest scoring students out of the running."

"Really? That's good news!"

"It is. It's a big deal and a tough exam so Harriet took the day off to study."

I nod enthusiastically. Of course Harriet would need independent study time. Maybe when she comes back, I can read her some flash cards.

I strip my pajamas when I am alone and throw on the first articles of clothing I can find. When I am finished, I look like a variety pack of candy. A middle aged man back home used to make tie-dye shirts outside his store as a side hobby. He made me one with swirled patterns of green, blue, and yellow. My tights are red and my socks are midnight purple. 

I almost change a second time, then decide I'm too groggy to care what someone might think.

A little girl's voice whispers in the back of my mind. How I look is always important, she insists stubbornly. Always important.

Yeah, yeah, I snap. Stay in the past where you belong.

Cristobel and Harriet-Makeba's cousin look at me as if I had sprouted a second head.

"Those are some interesting choices, your Highness," Cristobel comments, trying not to smile.

I told you so, the little girl snubs.

"Shut up," I grumble to both of them.

"I think you need some coffee," Leo suggests helpfully. 

I nod eagerly. "Absolutely."

Cristobel steps back and gestures to the two of us. "In case you haven't guessed, Leo is taking Harriet's place for today. I won't be coming with you. Stefan is experiencing a massive hangover and has requested my assistance."

She rolls her eyes as she says this.

"Who don't you leave him to wallow in his own consequences?" I hint.

She sighs. "Because Stefan is my friend, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"We went to school together. I've been in the same classes as him since kindergarten," She explains. "Me, him, Leo, and Harriet-Makeba all hung out together."

I'm not deaf to the past tense. Cristobel doesn't stick around long enough to be asked for more detail. "You two have fun. It's the day after your wedding, Rhoswen, so you don't have any tasks. A word of advice though, I would find your husband and spend some time with him. He's been asking about you."

Asking what about me?

Cristobel spins on her heel to leave. Probably predicting that she won't be getting a constructive response from me. The moment Cristobel is gone, Harriet-Makeba's cousin fidgets with his hands.

I can already feel the awkwardness threatening to cloud over. I scrimmage with my fuzzy thoughts to get him talking.

"Do you like coffee?"

Leo nods, but stays mute.

"So do I." We begin to walk down the corridor. Faint music is being played in the distance. For a moment, my chest stirs. I nearly believe that my wedding yesterday had been one of the bright dreams, and that my real wedding is around the corner.

I rub the back of my head. "Let's go get some then. My brain is filled with nonsense."

Leo takes the lead. I have no idea where anything is. A part of me is glad I always have someone at my side to direct me where I want to go. Eventually I will have to memorize the layout. I need to be able to sneak about without suspicion. 

Not that anything I would be doing is particularly incriminating. For now, I simply need a map. I don't believe anyone will think twice. 

Leo and I are given two mugs of coffee. His contains less sugar and cream than mine, though we both seem to share the same sweet tooth.

Tanora and Isadonna walk in on us at one point and stare at our cream-riddled drinks.

Isadonna gags. "My goodness, you two may as well be drinking liquid cake for breakfast."

Tanora has her own cup containing richly dark poison. "True coffee," She declares, tilting her cup a tad for us to compare. "In its purest form."

When I wrinkle my nose, she adds, "You will join the superior side one day, my dear. When you're older and far more miserable."

Isadonna steals a glance at her sister's drink and shudders. "Such a putrid beverage. I don't understand how it has become so popular."

The two sisters don't stay for long. The Queen reminds me of my major task tomorrow, then wanders off to complete her day. 

I have to deliver a speech to the entire country of Bardulm. My first time introducing myself to the public. According to Isadonna, I have a script writer typing away somewhere in the depths of this castle, but have yet to meet my mysterious writer in person. I don't fully feel comfortable reading someone else's lines and claiming them for my own. 

I tug my hair as I worry. To be entirely honest, I don't trust a stranger to give me the speech that needs to be spoken. This country is picking up the brittle pieces left after a devastating war. I can't assume that the general public has stabilized, because I know, even with my parents working their hardest, that Verduschkir is still struggling.

I am not in the position to confirm that my new home has done what my old one has not. I don't believe these two countries are much different.

The people in power are. Isadonna Corset seems more gravitated to performance and to materialism than to supporting her citizens. I have no clue how Ryker contributes.

It isn't fair to judge, given that my knowledge is limited and barely brushes the surface layer. If there is a cavity in leadership, than it is my duty to fill that hole.

I can't begin that process using falsehood. My communication needs to be direct and authentic. I have to speak for myself.

If only I knew exactly what the right thing to say is.

I drain my cup in less than two minutes. Leo sips his drink slowly while eyeing me in his peripheral vision. 

After approximately twenty minutes of trying to sculpt the perfect structure for my speech, and failing miserably, Harriet-Makeba's cousin feels inclined to speak.

"You don't need to be as nervous as you are," he offers. "The people of Bardulm are not cruel. They're skeptical, but not many are going to swoop above your head like vultures."

"Who said I'm nervous?" I reply warily

Leo pushes his slipped glasses back to the bridge of his nose. I notice his posture is coiled. Not necessarily tense, but prepared to strike if need be.

He follows my gaze and nods in understanding.

"I'm nervous all the time. I can always tell when others feel the same."

"Oh," I say blandly, stumped.

I want to ask Leo how responsible the King and Queen truly are. How much effort have they put in since the war? I think he would tell the truth, but I also think he is in a compromised situation if his response isn't glowing in favour of the family that had hired him and his cousin. However, if I can remove him from the perked ears of the other workers, I can carefully guide him for accurate information—so long as there is no one nearby to eavesdrop.

I stand and stretch my limbs. "Care to come for a walk outside?"

Leo rises from his chair as well. "If that's what you would like to do."

I frown. That was always a downside to being royal. It's always what I want to do, and never what they want. Few are ever comfortable enough to be my friend, let alone take a turn choosing an activity. 

I bite on my tongue until we are outside. The fresh air is a welcome change to the several days cramped inside the castle. Excluding the half an hour wedding ceremony.

There is no pressing matter at the moment. Just the freedom to explore. 

"Is there a river nearby?" I ask.

Leo's smile is the first genuine one to have played on his lips since our odd introduction. 

"There is. About fifteen minutes away."

"Let's go there."

His delight of the woods is as clear as the cloudless sky hanging above. The tension in his limbs visibly rolls out of his pores, dissipating into the calm green surrounding us. His pupils enlargen as if he has fallen in love.

This was a good decision. I'm practically killing three birds with one stone. Gaining information, getting a vague exploration of the forest I will one day have to venture into so I can find Timmy, and reducing Leo's nervousness for a brief period of time. I wince as I think of how sore his muscles must be straining and tensing them consistently.

The forest is filled with life. Birds chirp noisily as they hop on crooked branches. A squirrel runs up a tree trunk with an acorn in its mouth. It's tail flicks out of view as it climbs too high for my sight range.

The river is slim, shallow, and contains a rocky bottom layer. I don't spot any fish swimming around. I assume they're in hiding.

Leo scans our surroundings in much the same way that Harriet-Makeba will check the library before I can go in. I know it is part of their job description, but the precautions fall a little into the extreme. 

My temporary guard decides I'm in the clear and begins to skip rocks down the stream. He isn't very good at it, but he is persistent in his attempts.

I watch him for several moments before picking a flat rock of my own. I've never tried to skip them across the water the way Leo does. Instead, I let my stone plunge to the bottom with a satisfying ploop.

"What do you want to know?" He asks calmly.

I curse silently. How did he guess?

Harriet-Makeba's cousin is impassive while he waits for my response. My face heats.

I shuffle my feet uncomfortably. "Well," I hedge. "You mentioned that I don't need to expect the worse. I'm wondering what I do need to expect tomorrow? In your opinion."

"I've never been in your position," he says shortly. "I wouldn't know."

"You must have some idea," I insist. When all I receive is a half-hearted shrug, I switch tactics.

"What do the people of Bardulm need from me?"

"You would have to ask them."

"That makes no sense," I argue. "You are them, and I'm asking you."

Leo breathes heavily through his nose. He turns to face me. He doesn't seem too fond of eye contact, for he keeps his gaze lowered. The way his chin juts out reveals that he will not cave.

"If you truly care, you will figure out what needs to be done on your own."

I blank. Leo doesn't sound harsh, simply certain of himself that leaving me hanging will be more effective.

"Alright," I say stiffly. "Thank you for your input."

I suppose he has a point. It's not his job to guide me through my royal duties. But if people I associate with daily refuse to communicate, then how am I supposed to get the rest of the citizens to open up? 

I turn to leave. I walk about five feet before he calls out.

"I'm trying to tell you to take initiative is all."

I spin on my heel to look back.

Leo is rubbing his right shoulder, drinking in the woods behind me. His mind is in a different place.

"Take a trip into town," he elaborates. "See what they see, hear what they say. This country needs someone in power who truly cares for their people. Who does what is right because it's the right thing to do, and not to make themselves look good."

You have a lot to prove, Harriet had warned me. How negligent has Bardulm’s royal family been? Most importantly, what on earth am I going to do about it?

I ponder this for a long while. Leo inches closer, waiting on me.

You have a lot to prove…

Indeed I do.

“I understand,” I say finally. My voice is a c***k of thunder in contrast to the silent greenery. “I’m not like that.”

“It’s not me you need to convince.”

I bob my head slowly.

I move to retreat when a flash of movement catches my eye across the river.

A shadow notices I have spotted its presence and shifts cautiously for cover behind a tree.

I squint, leaning forward to get a better look. What kind of animal is that? Or is hunting permitted in this area despite being so close to the castle? 

Leo whirls instantly to see what I am peering at. I stare, dazed, as a gleam of silver glints in a line ignited by the sun. It shoots past the river and grazes the tree trunk, just missing the figure by a hair's breadth. My guard juts his arm behind him to shove me roughly towards the ground. His hand reaches for his swords. I stumble, but manage to stay upright. 

The dark figure understands that it is being pursued. It zips from its tree and speeds in a diagonal line, running to evade Leo’s attack.

That is when I realize the figure is a human being, and whoever they are, they are not welcome here.

Leo curses to himself as he grabs my forearm to straighten me. With unnerving urgency, Leo pushes me forward.

“Run,” he orders.

And so I do.