Queen Bee

Sunrise

    After dinner I had asked Father to be excused. He agreed and both the kings wished me a good night. I surprisingly had fell asleep quickly after slipping on a night gown and jumping into bed. The next morning I'm woken up by the sound of someone knocking on my door. 

    "Who is it?" I ask, forcing my eyes open. The light of the sun isn't even shining through my windows yet!

    "Anna!"

    "It's too early, go to sleep!" I yell, covering my head with my pillow. She says something, but the words are lost through the thick pillow. 

    "But I brought a surprise!" I bolt up and set the pillow beside me. 

    "Come in." I say as sweetly as I can. 

    "Gee, thanks." Anna is in my room, her hair in a high bun. 

    "Where's the surprise?"

    "I lied. I don't have the surprise." She giggles, then disappears into my closet. I ask her what she means, but she just ignores me. Anna emerges just a few moments later with a smile and a white gown. 

    "White?" I cringe. On what occasion would one wear white casually?

    "Yes! It will go perfectly with the warm pascal colors." My curiousness piqued, I stand and let her dress me. Its more of a gentle white than what I initially thought ,which makes me feel better. The dress drapes down all the way to the ground and sticks out of my body, encircling my mid section. It still seems to flow, as does the fabric hanging off of the sleeves. 

    "So, whats the occasion?" I ask, pretending to dislike the dress.

    "A special someone wishes to show you something." She replies vaguely, tying small bows of ribbon on the sleeves. 

    "This feels like something a child would wear." I laugh as she sits me down in a the chair. 

    "Well, you look awful grown up." Brush in hand, she combs all of my hair into a singular braid that dangles down my back. She ties it all together with another one of the bows at the end of the braid. 

    "Whadd'ya think?" 

    "I suppose it looks okay. Who are we meeting?" I get up to face her as she shrugs. 

    "I'm not the one meeting someone." Before I can think or ask any more questions, she grabs my hand and takes off out of the room. We glide down the hallways until we reach the part of the castle where guests stay during a visit. Then it hits me.

    "Anna-" 

    "Shush. Hurry, or you'll be late." She opens one of doors and pushes me inside before I can oppose her. I left in a dark, room that is much like my own. Almost exact like mine, except that its much more bland and has suit cases strewn on the floor. 

    "Hi." A man's voice makes me jump and gasp aloud. 

    "I am sorry! I did not mean to scare you! I could not find the..uh..the.." 

    "Light?" I say, trying to regain my breathing pattern.

    "Ah, oui!" Olivier says, standing in a corner of the room. 

    "Its always right next to the door." My hand flies to the wall, turning the sconce on. 

    "Oh, thank you." We spend the next few minutes in awkward silence, turning the rest of the lights on. 

    "So, why am I here?" 

    "Oh yes, follow me. Please." He crosses the room and throws a pair of heavy curtains away from each other to reveal a window. 

    "I moved the uh..thing," he points to a book shelf that has obviously been pushed out of place, "to find this!" He unlatches the window, his hands slightly shaking. A cold draft enters the room when the glass is pushed out, and Oliver extends his arm towards me. I quickly move past his bed and over to him, as soon as I begin to apologize he starts to say something as well.

    "I am sorry, you talk first."

    "Oh, um, I just wanted to-" I take a deep breath, "apologize about yesterday. I shouldn't have yelled, that was very disrespectful and for leaving you alone in the garden, because-" 

    "Non," he waves his other hand in my face, and I stare at him blankly. "I should not have...hold on." He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and begins to read off it. On the side that faces me, in Anna's scribbled writing, it says "These are his words, he just needed help putting them in English for you. You're welcome." 

    "I should not have said what I said. Please know that I meant it as a compliment." he holds the note card up closer to his face and squints, making me giggle. This then makes him smile as he reads. "I meant I did miss home, but I like yours as well because it is smaller." I arch and eyebrow, and he looks at me.

    "Hold on. I..my palace is large, so there's not many people to talk to. And yours is small, so there's more people to say 'hi' to in the hallway. It is nice this way. Again, I am very sorry." A bird flies by and Olivier looks at me again.

    "Yeah, it's fine." I'm not sure what to say, because no other royal has ever apologized to me before. Is there a more formal way of excepting his apology? I wouldn't know. He smiles again, then grabs my hand. He helps me step out onto a balcony that extends off the window. I go over to the rail and lean over to look at the ground below. 

    "So, why are we out here?" I ask, looking back at him. 

    "I wanted to watch the sunrise with you. I..." he looks at the note card again, "I figured that if we were supposed to spend time with each other, we should get to know each other. I wake up and watch the sun rise every morning that I can." He stands next to me now, staring at the sun that now peaks over the horizon in a crowd of pinks, blues, and purples.

    "Every morning?" I say, his warmth giving me butterflies in my stomach. I inch away and lean on the railing again. I notice that he smells sweetly of vanilla and cinnamon, a weird yet delightful combination. Olivier leans on the railing now, his face not even a foot away from mine. 

    "So, whats the weather like in Franse?" I ask, trying to distract myself. In answer, he simply stands back up and stretches. The sun is now leaving behind its entourage of pastel colors and is halfway up to its place in the sky. 

    "I made you a thing." I turn around to see Olivier reaching into his pocket and digging around. He pulls out something small and brown, then hands it to me sheepishly. Its a tiny, wooden bumble bee on a spike the size of a toothpick. 

    "Thanks? You didn't have to get me anything." 

    "I didn't I..uh..made it. The girls back home-not that I see many of them!-wear it in their..." he motions to his hair, "You do not have to, though! If you don't want to. I saw a bee yesterday and it made me think of you." He coughs.

    "Why?"

    "It..well..it flew away from me." He laughs nervously, then goes to turn around.

    "I am being weird. I apologize." I grab his hand, before he can leave. 

    "No! Uh," I quickly let go. "Its sweet. I really like it."

    "Oh, okay. I'll see you later?" 

    "Umm, sure." He helps me back into his room and walks past me to open the door. 

    "Good day." He says 

    "Good day." And its over just like that.

    The next time I see Olivier is in the castle library. I catch a glimpse of him from behind a bookshelf, reading at one of the empty tables. I usually go here because its vacant, but I suppose his company wouldn't be so bad. I walk up behind him and tap his shoulder. I laugh when he jumps and turns to look at me, red faced. 

    "Tu m'as fait peur!" He says, embarrassed. Then he offers me the seat next to him. 

    "What are you reading?" I ask, pointing to his book.

    "Frense to English Dictionary-to help with my English." 

    "That's cool! You not that bad at speaking it, though." 

    "Thank you! I," he flips to a page in the book and holds it up to his face, "ah-pre-she-ate it!" He sounds out the word "appreciate".

    "Why do you hold the book so close to your face?" I giggle and pull it down. He looks me in the eyes and says "Does everybody not?" 

    "No!" 

    "Oh. Well, the-" he flips quickly to another page again, "words in my books must be very small." 

    "I can read that just fine."

    "Hmm." I closes the book and sets it down gently, then folds his hands and stares at me intently. My face goes numb under his stare. 

    "How was dinner last night with my father?" 

    "Fine. He seemed to enjoy the wine."

    "Wine?" I grab his book and flip through the pages real quick. 

    "La vin." Olivier snorts, probably at my butchered pronunciation. 

    "What?" I say playfully, handing the book back to him.

    "Sorry, it is nothing." He looks down at the book as our hands touch, seeming frozen in place. So, I shove the book in his direction, probably too hard, and turn away from him. 

    "Father does like wine." His gaze trails off, like he's remembering something far away. 

    "I think I'll go prepare for dinner." I say, standing quickly. Olivier stands as well and our hands graze for a moment, and this time I don't pull away. We both turn away at the same time to leave, but I turn back to see him sauntering out of the library doors with his red tinted hair bobbing up and down. Unusual. That's the word to describe him. Utterly unusual. 

    The sun's rays pour over the palace garden like a water fall, washing away any bitter cold or thoughts of winter. Winters in Astaria were beautiful, though. It never got too chilly and the snow always seemed to fall over the land like an angel tucking themselves in at night. But now, during the blazing summer, its hard to remember exactly what that feels and looks like. I'm in the middle of bending to pick up a daffodil that drooped over and fondly recapping last winter when a distant voice calls my name. Or atleast, the name I was given.

    "Your Highness!" I stand straight, looking for the voice. My eye catches a dark figure half walking-half jogging up a rocky garden path. 

    "General Doxam, what seems to be the matter?" I ask, a smile forming on my face. 

    "Your Highness! Nothing is wrong, I just thought we could chat for a moment!" His deep voices matches his ebony skin. 

    "Of course!" I find a garden bench and invite him to sit with me. 

    "How is everything?" Doxam asks, sitting with a groan.

    "Fine, thank you. How are you and your family?" He laughs and begins to rustle through his pocket until pulling out a piece of paper. 

    "My daughter, Elle, drew this portrait of me." He shows it to me, and I immediately have to laugh. Its a stick man with circles on his arms as muscles and a sword larger than the man himself drawn in black ink. 

    "That is quiet the drawing! She'll be famous one day, I can tell!" He laughs and neatly fold the paper, then gingerly pockets it. 

    "She sure thinks so." He clears his throat and stares off in the distance. 

    "How's everything with the..uh..prince going? Oliver, is it?" he says, now looking at me strangley.

    "It's actually Olivier, and fine I suppose. Why do you ask, you don't seem the kind of guy who cares about my love life." I watch how his mouth moves the scar on the side of his face and giggle, imagining what Doxam might gossip about.

    "Love life?" He arches an eyebrow.

    "You know that's not what I meant." 

    "Mhm. Anyway, I was just curious. His Majesty and King Jules have been planning a lot of military related things and I though I would just...check in."

    "Okay?" That's a little weird. Before I can ask any more questions, the sound of footsteps draw the attention away from the conversation.

    "Reporting for duty, Sir!" The young page from earlier, Anslo, is back again with his soldier persona. Doxam stands right up and salutes the boy, so he does the same. 

    "Good work, Private. I promotion is in your future. You are tasked with escorting Her Highness to dinner tonight." Anslo's chest inflates as he looks at me, then back at the general. 

    "Yes, Sir!" 

    "At ease, Soldier." They drop the salutes and Anslo turns to me and bows. 

    "I am here to escort you, Your Highness. Your wish is my command."

    "Your an escort, not a genie Anslo. Just take the laddie's hand and escort her." Doxam says, walking away in his usual relaxed manner. Anslo loses all seriousness and sticks his tongue out in disgust.

    "You want me to hold her hand? Gross!" 

    "Don't worry, I'm a princess so I don't carry cooties." He looks at me suspiciously, then reaches his arm out. I take it and stand, following him back into the palace.

    "We have arrived safely, Your Highness." Anslo announces outside of the banquet room. 

    "Thank you for escorting me, Sir." He bows, then runs down the hall like his life depends on it. I chuckles as I open the door. The overload of spices makes me want to sneeze, and I have to hold my nose to stop it. 

    "Adela!" Jules calls out as I saunter over to the table. My father is at the head with an empty seat to his right. On the left sits Jules and then Olivier. I take a sit across from the prince who looks a little pale. 

    "We were just telling Harald about Olivier's painting hobby! Isn't that right?" Jules says, obviously already tipsy. 

    "Yes, Papa. I am not very good." 

    "Well, you don't need to be good when your a king!" He laughs like he just told a joke, then takes a sip fo wine. 

    "I'm sure your much better at painting than I am." I say, for some reason. Maybe to make him feel better?

    "Yes, a squirrel would be better than you, Dear." Father jokes, reaching for a dinner roll. 

    "Thanks, Dad." My cheeks go red, but I still laugh at the joke. 

    "Voilà." Jules pours Olivier a glass of wine and I see his nose scrunch.

    "Goûte." The king speaks again, now handing the glass to him. Olivier takes a sip a gives his father a smile. A soon as Jules turns away to say something to my father Olivier spits the wine  back in the glass. I look away and pretend not to notice as he pushes the drink away from him. 

    "Unfortunately, we will have to return home tomorrow. There's been some complications on the war front that needs my attending to. We intended on staying much longer, but..." Jules shrugs it off and I feel a little excitement set ablaze inside of me. Then I feel a little disappointed. I wipe the latter away as I clean my hands on a napkin. I pick up one of the legs of chicken and set it on my plate.

    "That's just fine, Jules. We understand. Say, how about we come to you in, oh, about a week? That would give you enough time to clear things up?" My father takes a bite of chicken, ignoring my side eyeing him. 

    "That sounds perfect! Doesn't it, Son?"

    "Yes." 

    "Then it's settled! Boy, you are going to just LOVE love Franse! Its got all the..." I begin to ignore him as he goes on and on about Franse, and instead look at Olivier. He smiles at me sympathetically, like he's apologizing for his father. I shrug and smile, hoping he doesn't feel too bad. He looks down at his plate, and suddenly I want him to look back up more than anything. My face flushes at the thought so I look down at my own plate. 

    "You know, people often affiliate our home with falling in love!" 

    "Papa-" Olivier's head shoots up and both our fathers laugh.

    "Come on, your both young adults." Suddenly Olivier makes eye contact with me and a trip to Franse sounds great.