The Swan's Wish

Baron

Charlotte

Pressing the tiny latch on the gold pendant that hung dutifully on the chain pinned to my breast pocket, I felt my upper lip stiffen as I noticed the time.

She was late. Again.

I picked the small ink spot on the tip of my glove, feigning patience as I watched the outer entrances for the arrival of my prickly pear of a daughter. Why the Lord felt it necessary to punish me with such a stubborn, mule-headed, headstrong, willful girl! Oh! I would never know.

The urge to fan myself was overwhelming, as I was stuck in the hottest part of the staging area. The lights overhead were bearing down on the heavy material of my suit, causing tiny beads to gather around my brow. "Maria!" I snapped at my assistant. "Can we do something?" I asked, motioning at the ceiling. "I feel as though my body will burst into flame at any second." This was not the time to have a hot flash. Royalty never admitted to having hormones.

As the woman scurried away to hopefully produce some sort of fan, I worked on collecting myself. There was no need for speeches or cumbersome accolades tonight. I was simply here to taste 3 pre-selected wines, take several photo opportunities to show that the Palace did indeed carry the burden of the economy seriously, and shake hands with 2 vintners. The palace was showcasing 30 new wines, but that didn't require my presence, thankfully.

The bustle of people and indistinct conversation mixed with the sweet smell of wine and fresh bread. I honestly didn't mind coming to the Wine of the Worlds. Of all the things I was obligated to do, this one might be my favorite.

It had been Charles' favorite time of the year. He had never been allowed to follow his intense passion for wine-making, obviously, but he took great pride in the vineyards housed in Sussex and Kent. We would go there as often as our schedule allowed in the early days. It was a tinge of nostalgia that kept me coming back every year. There was no need for me to make appearances here when I was so needed elsewhere... but it helped me feel close to him once again. And for one brief moment every spring, something inside my chest welled with hope that maybe not every day would lead back to that black place of despair.

Odette was so similar to her father in many ways. She was so passionate... she just failed to weigh certain obligation against her hobbies. He never failed there. He was the Crown, through and through. He lived for the welfare of his people. A true king, had he ever been given the opportunity to live and accomplish his full potential.

Then, of course, there was the obvious. He was bright and fair where I was dark and freckled. His piercing blue eyes would light with intense heat when he spoke. My brown ones would melt when he even glanced at me. He was lean and muscular where I was soft and yielding. She definitely possessed her father's athleticism.

I did not hate the ballet, or that she attended the academy or was so talented. But it is my duty to remind her that she is born to privilege and with it comes specific obligations. There was no part of me that wished to crush or stifle the parts of Odette that made her a person, with the vibrant strokes that she had been gifted with--no. It was only my desire not to see her crushed by the crown that she would one day wear. Without that exercise, of holding it in place, and bearing its weight, she would be crushed.

I had hoped that seeing Derek might reset her priorities, but it seems to have done just the opposite. Tea this afternoon was a complete disaster. I've never seen Odette in such a state! Derek, of course, handled it the way any gentleman should; but would you want to be married to someone intent on being a shrew? “I see a woman may be made a fool,

If she had not a spirit to resist.” I murmured the words from the famous play.

The black curtains that hung around the plain concrete venue made the perfect hiding spot for me to survey the crowd. My security huffed as I fingered the light panel, wishing I could catch a glimpse of the party-goers. "Your Royal Highness," James stepped in front of me. "I must insist you allow me."

I knew what that meant. There was no allowance, just the silencing of my constant curiosity. At my age, you would think that there would be little left for me to ponder... but it was the fatal flaw of my existence. "I declare," my mouth mumbled from memory. "I was only peeking."

He stood erect, as was his duty, along with the 6 other gentlemen making their circle around my person. Trying to control the twitch on my lip, I turned to see if I could track Maria down. Still no sight of her.

The scratch of a walkie-talkie echoed off the cinder blocks. "Teams be alerted that Baron von Rothbart has arrived with guests. Visual detail has been dispatched."

The power of two invisible punches knocked the air out of my lungs. Wrenching my eyes from the black box that just announced our kingdom's traitor, I sought out James' eyes. "How dare he show his face? After all these years?" Royal composure had taken its leave. In its place was the overflow of anger that I had held inside for too long. "That..." the words were foaming on my lips. "Odette," I heard myself whisper. "She cannot be here. Not now. Not in his presence..." My knees were buckling under me. Reaching for support, I felt the soft of skin under my grasp.

"Your Majesty?" Maria cooed, fanning me with an information booklet.

"Finally, you arrive." Looking around in bewilderment, I clutched Maria's arm firmly, pulling her as close to me as I could. "Do not let Odette into this venue. Do you understand? She must not be seen by him."

"But, ma'am," Maria hurried. "She's already here."