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try to hide my blush as Camille laughs at me. She says, "So you do know him?"
"No, not really. I just saw him at the ball. We talked for a little bit. I was just confused as to why he was still here. I thought all the nobles went home."
Camille shrugs, "Maybe he just had some business."
I nod, "I'm sure that is what it was."
Antonin says, "Wait, there are still nobles here?"
"Yes, well, I suppose Claudio is a royal, not a noble."
Antonin frowns, "I was under the assumption that there wasn't any visitors still within the castle. Alexanne wanted it visitor-free so that you and here could have some 'sisterly bonding time'."
I roll my eyes, "Like she actually wanted to bond with me." The words die as they leave my lips. I forgot that Camille was standing right behind me.
Camille asks, clearly suspicious, "Why wouldn't Alexanne want to bond with you?"
I try to laugh it off, "I'm sure she does. It was just a joke. When we were younger, we would never get along. I was just trying to be funny."
Camille doesn't say anything more. I try to read her expression through the mirror, but her face is blank.
I clear my throat, "Do you think that Alexanne knows that Claudio is still in the castle?"
"I assume she must know. He has to be staying in a room, so servants would be aware. I'm sure she just forgot to mention it to me," Antonin says.
I nod, but I'm not convinced. I find it very unlikely that Alexanne would 'forget' to do anything. But, perhaps it did slip her mind. Or maybe she just didn't tell Antonin because she didn't find it important enough.
Camille says, "So what do you think of Prince Claudio?"
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I keep my voice steady, "What about him?"
"Well...a lot of the women back in Fontaine don't deny that he's rather good looking." She winks at me in the mirror.
I stiffen, and immediately regret it. "No, no. Camille, I have a courter. I'm not looking for anyone."
She laughs, "I know, I know. I was under the impression that you had never met your courter before."
"I haven't."
"Then how do you know if you have feelings for him? I don't think that true love—"
I roll my eyes, "Honestly, Camille? You're talking to me about true love." She's barely thirteen. "Have you ever loved anyone?"
She grins, "Not yet, but a girl can dream."
I roll my eyes again, "I wish you the best of luck. Perhaps you should go pursue the Prince."
It's Camille's turn to roll her eyes, "Really? Me? When has a Prince ever looked at a lady in waiting?" Though her words are light, they hold a slight bitterness. Our classes and lives are different. Though she is a noble, she has to have some type of fortunes to her name to become a princess's lady in waiting, she isn't too special. She can never hope to fall in love with a Prince.
Her life has limits, only because of the money her family makes.
I force a smile, "I'm sure that you will find your own prince."
She nods, pressing her lips together. The light conversation has disappeared.
●◊●◊●
I climb into bed, yawn excessively for Camille's sake. The sooner she retires to her own quarters, the sooner Antonin and I can sneak out. However, she refuses to leave. She fusses through my dresses, planning out my outfits for the next week. I want to dismiss her, but I'm afraid she'll only become more suspicious.
As I wait, I pick up Emilienne's diary. I pick up in the spot that I left off, a few entries into the diary.
Today William announced something rather terrifying. We will be having a contest. We will be competing for who will be queen. I don't know what to think.
We don't even know the rules to the contest. How are we supposed to win if you don't know how? I feel like my sisters will beat me, all of them. I will come in last place. Stupid, reckless Emilienne. What can you expect from her? Certainly not much more the sneaking out and messing around in the village. How can she rule a kingdom when she can't even learn her lessons?
It doesn't really matter. I don't even know if I want to be Queen. Honestly, do I want to sit through boring meetings and listen to advisors tell me what to do? No. Not really. But what if I could make a change?
I don't know my politics. I hate that part of my lessons. I don't honestly care what the foreign king said at his last speech. I don't care that the foreign princess was executed for some odd reason, that's probably all a lie.
But I know my people. I've run through the streets along with the young boys, all too hungry to run for long. I've helped the husbandless women find work, pressing coins into the palms of their humble hands. I've listened to the teenagers complain about how there isn't any work for them. And it's the truth. We are too busy complaining about the past to focus on how we might improve the future.
I could help them. If I became Queen, I could help each and every single one of them. Instead of worrying about the politics and the wars and the trade and the economy, I'll worry about the people. Maybe we might actually improve something.
It doesn't matter. I won't be queen, right? Stupid, reckless Emilienne. I guess I'll just have to do the best as I can as a Princess.
But then who should be the Queen, if I am not?
I don't know.
Does anyone deserve to be Queen? I've heard the whispers, and then the shouts, for democracy. I've heard the praise and the complaints. Maybe that would be best for the kingdom? Why should one person dictate everyone else's lives?
That also doesn't matter. People fear change more than they hate the present.
I'm too tired to continue writing on. I suppose I will have to figure out how I might succeed in this contest. Perhaps I won't be the last one, maybe just the second to last. That would be nice, for once.
Emilienne should have been Queen. She's right. She knew the people better than any of us. She would have known what was hurting them and how to help them. Perhaps I should focus on ruling like Emilienne should have.
I know now more than ever that I must hide this diary from Alexanne. By speaking about democracy, Emilienne is committing treason. If Alexanne were to find this, I'm sure she would find a way to make Emilienne look even more guilty.
Alexanne won't care that Emilienne is already dead. She'll find a way to punish her more. Perhaps she'll have her body removed from the royal morgue. Maybe she'll declare Emilienne a traitor to the entire public, and Emilienne's legacy will forever be tarnished.
I shove the diary into the bottom of my nightstand drawer. I'll find a better place to hide it later.
Camille finally asks if I am ready for bed. I say that I am and dismiss her to her quarters.
She tries to refuse, but I make her go. I continue my excessive yawning and eventually she agrees. I glance at Antonin and he whispers, "Give her fifteen minutes."
I nod and wait in my bed. The minutes seem to creep by as I come closer and closer to searching for Grace. I don't know whether I actually believe she will be in the city jail.
It makes sense that Alexanne would want to keep her close. I'm sure that Alexanne loves to visit Grace often, gloating over her victory. Alexanne never really liked Grace. She didn't hate her, but she thought she was a nuisance. She thought everyone was a nuisance. Besides, I have a feeling this is more about me than it is about Grace. Alexanne is just finding every chance she can to hurt me until she can kill me.
Antonin finally nods and I slip out of bed. I change into a simple dress, one that can easily be mistaken for a simple maid's. I groan internally, I don't have Grace here to paint my face to resemble someone else's. I put my hair loose, hoping that it will somehow keep me from being recognized. It shouldn't matter. The idea is not to run into anyone. Another guard arrives, a trusted friend of Antonin's. He will be staying in my bedroom, making sure that Alexanne doesn't come in to terrorize Camille while we are gone.
Antonin leads me out of my room and down the hall. Just like before, he knows exactly when it is safe to move, and where to hide. I guide him to where Henri is staying, hoping that I remember the directions correctly.
We have to duck into a doorway when voices fill the hall. They slowly pass, and I let out a sigh of relief. I don't have a single explanation formed if we are caught. How do I explain what I am doing in the middle of the night?
Antonin and I creep forward, cutting through halls and corridors. Just as we are about to reach Henri's room, someone clears their throat behind us.
I whip around to see Alexanne smiling innocently at us.
I can only stare. What do I say? How could I possibly explain? It's not as though I can tell her the truth.
She says, "Hello, Admira. Fancy seeing you here at," she glances at a clock on the wall, "eleven o'clock at night."
I open my mouth to stutter out an answer, but she holds up a delicate hand. "There is no need to explain Admira. I completely understand. We talked about this, remember. I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me. I guess I just didn't realize it was this serious. Do you do this every night? I suppose I can see why you wanted to push back meeting your courter."
"Alexanne, no."
She laughs, "Admira, my darling, you are fooling no one. I'll leave the two of you. Have fun, but maybe not too much fun." She winks at me. Her giggles reach my ears long after she disappears.
- Writer
