The Amorous Mate

Chapter 40: Grounded

“Your Highness.”

Chelsea jumped from shock when a familiar voice appeared inside her room. She must have forgotten to lock the door of her room as she tried her serious best knotting every fabrics she could find in the room. She was trying to make a rope.

“Goodness gracious. Your Highness! What trickery are you trying to pull this time?”

She looked at the two people who entered her room, and awkwardly smiled. She saw Venida sighing in frustration as she shook her head, for she already has an idea what the princess was trying to do. Vennett however, rushed to her with worry and curiosity.

“Why are you tying every fabrics in your room? What are you—” she gasped— “Are you trying to make a rope for your escape, your Highness?!” she exclaimed.

Chelsea stared at her head servant and gave her an awkward chuckle. She scratched her head with sense of defeat, for her plan was again busted.

“Why am I so stupid these past few days?” she whispered.

“What are you saying, your Highness?” Vennet asked, for she did not clearly heard it.

“Nothing,” said Chelsea. “I was just playing, okay? It’s not that I am trying to f*****g escape.”

Vennet sighed. She grabbed the group pf fabrics that the princess tied for about an hour, and started disentangling it. Chelsea wanted to grab it back, but she could not do anything but to pout and mournfully watch how her head servant disentangled all of the efforts she made on the fabric.

“You must know, among anyone, that you are still not allowed to go outside of the palace, isn’t it? Why are you starting to do such childish things as this, your Highness?”

“But I did not do anything wrong to deserve this!” Chelsea complained. “It’s not that I forced Miss Kress to kidnap me that I deserve to grounded here in my room!” she started throwing her tantrums. She grabbed a pillow from her bed, and childishly threw it far to the corner of her room.

“Your Mama was just worried about you, your Highness.” Venida joined the conversation. She placed the tray of food on the princess’ bedside table and sat beside her. “You do remember how much she was crying when she finally saw you safe from your abductors, don’t you?”

Chelsea was still pouting, but she nodded to answer Venida’s question. She clearly remembered how much her Mama cry when she came back to the palace together with General Cedric. She was wailing loud as she ran towards her for a tight hug. She kept on saying “I could not take it anymore if I lose you too.” It made her worried, because that only means her Mama—or the real Princess Demeter’s Mama—was still in the state of trauma and sadness from the death of the king and the crowned prince.

She understood the fact that her Mama was just worried at her, but she could not accept the fact that it seemed she was over-reacting by restricting her to go outside of her room, and be locked in the place as if she was a prisoner.

“You must understand your Mama, your Highness. She was just worried about your welfare,” Vennet said even though she was busy cleaning the princess’ mess.

“Damn it,” Chelsea cursed. “I’m bored. Am I not really allowed even just at the vicinity of the palace?”

“No, your Highness,” said Venida, “I told her about your everyday escaping only to go and meet someone—though I did not name that it was Lord Matthew. That is why the Queen decided to protect you by means of restricting you here in your room. That thing you are doing with the fabrics, forgive me, your Highness, but it would not be effective. There are guards who are in patrol down from your room. They will immediately notice your escaping.”

“Damn it. This is your fault, Venida,” said Chelsea. She crossed her arms on her chest and disgustingly looked at her head servant.

Venida chuckled. “Jusy like your Mama, I was also protecting you at all my cost, your Highness.” She smiled.

Chelsea rolled her eyes after hearing the head servant. “Don’t spill me some cringe lines there, Venida. I still hate you all for caging me here in my room. Were you not afraid I might have trauma or something? Back at that b***h Kress’ mansion, do you know that I was placed and caged in a room too? I was shaking in feat that time, then now, you are also doing the same thing b***h Kress has done to me!”

Venida again chuckled. She held the princess’ hand. “We were just trying to protect you, your Highness. That is just all. Besides, your Mama are forbidding you to go outside for a short time only.”

“If two straight days were short for you, yeah whatever,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes.

“Has it been two days already? Then that means you only need to wait for two more days for your restriction to be lifted,” Vennett accidentally slipped from her tongue. The moment she realized what she said, she frantically covered her wordy mouth. She too was secretly kicked by her sister, Venida.

Chelsea nodded weakly. As if her energy escaped from her body, she went back to her bed and covered her head with pillows.

“Th-That is just two more days, your Highness. If you have successfully survived the restriction for two days already, th-then that means you would be able to . . . to survive the remaining two—”

“Shut up!” Chelsea shouted behind the pillows, releasing a muffled scream. Then, she jerked up and showed her about-to-cry face. “I don’t want this anymore.” She went back to her bed and covered her face once again with pillows.

Venida reached Vennet and twisted her ear.

“Ow!” Vennett exclaimed, but in whispers.

“The Queen told us not to tell her that thing, didn’t you remember?” Venida whispered with grudge.

Vennet rolled her eyes. “I forgot, must you know! Besides, what is wrong if she will know?”

“She will be that depressed,” Venida answered, looking at the princess with worry. “She must stay safe—that is the Queen’s order. Until the celebration for the first full lunar moon of spring hasn’t come yet, she is not allowed to go outside.”

“I know that, Venida,” Vennet said, finally untangling the last cloth the princess has tied.

Venida started to stand up. “Your Highness, we must go,” she said.

“Yeah, go now. That’s better.”

“Please knock on your door if you want something. We will serve you soon as we can.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The Princess sounded as if she really wanted to get rid of her servants.

Venida sighed and looked at Vennett. She nodded at her, and decided to leave the princess alone. She would need more time for herself.

Yet, just as they were about to reach the princess’ door, another knock came from the outside. Venida quickly opened it, and saw the smiling Princess Cassiopeia.

“Your Highness,” the two servants greeted.

“How is my sister?” Princess Cassiopeia asked.

Venida and Vennett looked at each other. “She is . . . we think that the princess wants her time alone. She is still mad from the restriction given by the queen.”

“Then I’ll cheer her,” Princess Cassiopeia said. Without any hesitation, she went inside Demeter’s room, and laid next beside her mad sister.

“Sister,” Cassiopeia called. “Are you not fine?”

Chelsea did not reply.

Princess Cassiopeia poked her sister’s belly. “You must answer me, sister. Are you not fine?”

She saw the long exhale of her sister. Then she nodded, answering her question.

Chelsea removed the pillow from her face, and revealed her seemingly mourning face. Her stare was straight at the ceiling, wondering what were the things she would do for the next two days.

“I don’t know anymore,” she muttered, mindlessly shaking her head left and right. She looked at her sister. “Maybe you can help me, Cassiopeia. Talk to Mama. Tell her that I don’t need two more days prisoned here in my room.”

“I can’t help you with that, sister. We know that a Queen’s words are absolute. We cannot deny her orders. That being said, you must remain here until the celebration of the first full moon of spring will happen.”

“Celebration of . . . what?”

“The First Full Moon of Spring. It is a celebration in the kingdom made as gratitude for another year of feast and abundance.”

“Does that mean I have to wait for that celebration to happen before I can get my freedom back?” Chelsea asked, trying to suppress the tears about to fall from her eyes.

“Sadly,” Cassiopeia said.

Chelsea sighed. “Quit it,” she said, then stood up. “I will go out from this room now. No rules from Mama. I have my own f*****g life.”

Cassiopeia chuckled. “That would be good if there were no guards outside, closely watching your room right now. They will just drag you back in this room easily, for even if you can break Mama’s order, the guards cannot break the Queen’s law.”

Chelsea grunted and sat back to her bed. She looked at Princess Cassiopeia once again. “I am looking childish and immature now, right?”

Cassiopeia nodded with firm lips. “You are.”

“Well sorry, that is what boredom does. All I want is to get outside and—”

“—and visit Lord Matthew, for apparently, it has been days since you last saw him,” Cassiopeia continued her sister’s words.

“Th-That’s not what I meant!” Chelsea exclaimed, flustered.

Cassiopeia started laughing the moment she saw her sister’s blushing face. “You’re caught, sister. You’re obviously caught.”

Chelsea again released a heavy sigh. “I . . . do not need him to visit me. What I need is to visit him,” she whispered. Again, the picture of Lord Matthew wounded and unconscious while being carried by Gio has reflected back to her. Worries flushed through her face. “I wonder if he is okay.”

*****

Chelsea sighed. She could not count anymore how many times had she sighed for the day.

She was completely bored inside her room, for there is nothing fun nor exciting can she do. It was already about a sunrise. The clear blue sky has turned red and orange, and the sun was about to take its rest.

Ash she sat on her bed, she stared at the opened window, and grimly watched how the sun was slowly setting.

Somehow, she was thankful because another day is about to pass, meaning she will only need to wait lesser than earlier before her restriction to leave her own room will be lifted. She managed to survive one day of boredom, and then, tomorrow will be the last day where she will look like a prisoner.

Princess Cassiopeia gave up on her. Her sister wanted to her in her room so that she would not get bored, but what she did instead was to throw all her tantrums at Cassiopeia, causing the woman to leave her mad and irritated.

“You are starting to annoy me sister, more than how sister Andromeda annoys me. Go ahead and perish from your loneliness here inside your room, for I will leave you,” said her sister, and proceeded to leaving the grounded princess alone.

That was how she ended sulking alone inside her room, sorrowfully watching the red sky and the descending sun.

She heard herself sighing again.

“Maybe I’ll sleep early tonight,” she said, hoping that her waiting would be less longer if she will perhaps sleep more than the usual she was sleeping.

She was about to stand up and grab the cup of tea on her bedside table when from the window, she heard a sound — a creaking sound. She stopped, and looked at the window.

Instinctively, she said, “Hello?” to call attention if perhaps someone was outside of the window.

Realizing how stupid it was to think that someone was outside the window, she slapped her forehead. “What am I thinking? My room’s up above the palace, so why am I thinking that someone was out . . . side.”

Her mouth hanged open as she looked at the pair of hands that was clinging from the edge of the window. The windowpane was opened, that is why someone can use that place to enter from the room.

But . . . who could be that—

She gasped. She remembered series of horror movies she has been watching back in her Chelsea life. The scene of two hands clinging at the window was very similar to the horror movies she has watched.

She thought, what is that hands belongs to a ghost? Or worst . . . a murderer?

She started to panic. She looked for something in the room which she can us use in order to defend herself if perhaps, her suspicion was true. She managed to grab a pillow from her bed. She wasn’t sure, however, if the pillow was enough for her to protect herself. If the owner of the hands was a ghost, then the pillow, she thought, was enough. But . . . if it was a serial killer, a murderer, she would perhaps be thinking of what way could she use the soft pillow as her defense.

When the head of the hand’s owner started to pop from the window, she screamed loud, and started smashing the pillow at the head. “Die! Die, you ghost!” she exclaimed.

“Princess, might you calm down! Gracious! Stop hitting my head!”

She stopped when she heard a familiar voice. She quickly removed the pillow in her front, and peaked at the window. She saw someone she least expected would be visiting her in such a peculiar way.

“L-Lord Matthew?” she asked, surprised.