Obey Thy Lies

“The Princess is missing.” The ever composed right hand man to the princess may be walking stead and normally stiff, it was hard for him to hide the horror gleaming from his face. He took his best to walk fast despite the many presences lingering in Shire Hall then walked towards Amelie, one of Princess’ Ladies-in-waiting. “What do you mean, Harry?” Amelie whispered at him as he stood beside her. “You do know what I am saying, Amelie. Let’s not pretend we do not.” Amelie sighed. “Harry, you were appointed by the King and the Queen of this mighty Kingdom to provide security for the princess and to assure she’s not going anywhere God forbids. Perhaps you might reconsider that job knowing you’re not doing pretty well?” “I have been the seventh right-hand man to the princess. And the longest on record. I am doing my job well,” Harry replied. “Then why are you here, seeking for the chaos of my head?” “Because, the princess, for heaven's sake, is missing!” he may have answered her with whispers, but his words screamed urgency. He doesn’t want anyone nor everyone to know that one of the most important people in this monarchy was missing. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Harry, you are making me faint with your incompetence!” she whisperingly exclaimed and irritably walked away from her post. Harry followed her with urgency. “I was just asking for your help. Today’s the princess’ birthday and sooner when the sun rests—” “The sun is about to rest.” “Right. The sun is about to rest, damn it. And she is to be called for her first ever birthday party.” “Less, this will be her first appearance to the ton. And we’ll all be dead if the ton finds out she’s missing.” Knowing the consequence of the princess’ disappearance, they frantically walked in the crowded Shire Hall, hoping that she was just there, naughtily hiding from them. But to no avail, Harry and Amelie could not find any signs of her. “The Princess surely enjoys the last bits of her freedom, I believe,” Harry said. He was trying to console himself when after an hour of roaming, they still could not find the Princess in this ginormous Stoneshire palace. “Indeed. She was enjoying the privilege of the secrecy of her face. Later this evening, her face and her whole self will be revealed then, and she would not be able to enjoy a peaceful lone stroll anymore just as what she was always doing,” Amelie agreed. Yet then, while they have their sympathies towards the princess, still, they were in the middle of pitting anxiety because she is still missing. So long that they were not seeing her physically, they would never be at any ease. Their hands were trembling, even though they tried their best to calm it even by forcefully shaking it. Their chests were also nearing its grinding explosion every time that the clocks ticked and the sky became darker and darker. It was almost time for the princess’ birthday party celebration. Still, he and Amelie could not find the purpose of their frantic walks. Not until when they had their turns looking at the kitchen. They saw her there, on the counter, stirring a huge pot filled with food to be served to her own party. She was alone. She had traces of coal and dirt smearing her dress and face. Her sweat is streaming as she works with the food she was cooking with only the help of a dimly-lit lamp. “Your Highness!” Harry exclaimed. “Oh, Princess, what are you doing here when you should be preparing for this night’s celebration?” Amelie asked. She checked how dirty and grimy the Princess had become. “What do you mean?” the princess confusedly asked. “You must make haste, your highness. Leave the food alone and we will immediately prepare you for a quick bath.” “What do you mean, ma’am? I am not the princess. I am but a mere substitute for my servant mother.” Harry and Amelie looked at her with a split second of shock and silence, then they crackly laughed. “Oh you almost got us, your highness. You surely do. Let’s go.” Amelie said and started to gently pull the princess in her arms while laughing. “Let us go, your highness,” Harry also added. “But I am not the princess.” ***** Aravella Farrington placed her hat on a worn basket she would use. She smiled at her mother who was lying in her bed, sick and direly needing rest. “I am going, mother,” she said. She went near her and caressed her mother’s head. “Aravella, you need not to,” her mother replied to her. “But I want to, mother. Besides, that was the palace. Who would not decline such a chance of entering the glamor of the Stoneshire?” Aravella asked. “Aravella, my child, behind that glamor is a horrifying truth, I must speak. So please, I suggest you not to go. Besides, I can do it. I can work again.” Her mother stood from her bed. “Mother,” Aravella called. He pulled her mother’s arm and placed her back to her bed. “Look, you are burning. For months, you haven’t had enough rest. That’s why your body took a toll.” Her mother coughed. “Look at you, mother. You must rest.” “I can work, Aravella. I’d rather have all the misery of the palace work, but not you.” Aravella sighed and held her mother’s coarse hands. “I do appreciate it, mother. Your love and sacrifices just to make me live comfortably is seen. But this time, let me sacrifice for you instead. I have been wanting to help you, and I believe this is my rarest opportunity.” “You need not to help me, Ara.” her mother coughed. “I don’t want you to get hurt, especially hurt from the palace. Besides,” “Besides what, mother?” Ara’s mother hesitated. She avoided her daughter’s look. “Look, mother, your precious daughter is strong. She’s not as weak as you think.” Her mother sighed. Now, when Ara saw that the sun was about to set behind the soaring mountains, she placed her mother’s hand back on her chest and quickly stood up. “Besides, if none of us works, we won’t have food and medicine for you.” She quickly grabbed the basket waiting for her on their table and quickly stormed to the door, out to their tattered house. But before she could close it, she looked back at her mother. “I’m off, Mother.” “Could I still be able to stop you?” her mother asked. Aravella hummed a thinking sound for a quick moment. “Hmm… no,” she answered. Her mother laughed. “Then what can I do now?” “Just rest, mother. I’ll work hard in place of you.” “Take care, Aravella. I must see you tomorrow morning,” her worried mother said. “You shall!” Aravella replied while running in the green field of grass, towards the narrow path that would guide her to the Stoneshire palace. Aravella Farrington is a daughter of a decade of two-long servant in the Stoneshire palace, Gloria Farrington. For years, this young girl-turned-beautiful-maiden has been the subject of other men’s fantasies, both of the poors, the rich, and even the richest. Since the time of her blooming season, on her eighteenth birthday, suitors from different regions and provinces in the Stoneshire Kingdom have been coming to her, asking for her hand, and seeking marriage. But all of those have been turned down by this fair, glowing maiden. Many were asking why she would turn down even the richest, even the viscount’s son and heir. It was her opportunity to live better and to have an elegant lifestyle, yet she just turned them into waste. She only reasons her mother’s misfortune. If she would marry such a rich man, she would live rich and sleep in a golden bed. But her mother would not. Her riches would not be her riches, for her money is, naturally, owned by her supposed husband. And he could not bear such a thought that she would be indulging in her husband’s money while her mother is still swimming in the mud of dump. It was her sole reason whenever she was asked by people who knew her. But, there is another. “Are you really going there?” A man’s voice appeared echoing soon as she walked past a woodshed. From there, Ara saw the man. A handsome man. “Caspian!” she called and waved at him with excitement. She ran and then hugged him. “I missed you,” she said. “We had just seen each other this morning,” Caspian replied. “Well, missing someone isn’t measured by how long or short the time had gone,” she smilingly rebutted. “What is it then?” Aravella snickered. “Longing.” Caspian then was infected by the maiden’s ethereal laugh. “Do you long for me, then?” Silence, and then, “I do,” she whispered. Caspian gave her a peck on the lips. Yet, such a mood would not be satisfied by a mere split-second kiss. Dragged by the summer’s breeze, he kissed Aravella again, but this time, it had depth. It had longing. His tongue invaded her mouth, and his hands roamed on her back, on her chest, and on her hidden precious. Aravella moaned. She volunteered to unbutton her own dress and when they were fully naked, the last breath of the warm sun became their only warmth as they consumed each other’s lust hidden inside an abandoned hut. ***** “Crap, I might be going late,” Aravella said as she dressed her naked body. The sun has already set behind the mountains, and the sky is starting to get dark. “Are you really sure you are going to the palace?” Caspian asked. He was peeling an apple he had picked from his farm. “I am, because it is work and money,” Aravella answered. “I do not question the money, my love, but, it is just that … I’m afraid.” He gave a piece of sliced peeled apple to Aravella. Aravella grabbed it from him and munched it with satisfaction. “Afraid of what?” “Men,” he shyly answered, then turned her gaze away. Aravella was confused by his answer, which made her think for a moment. And when she finally got what he meant, she laughed. “Are you saying you’re afraid I might see gorgeous—way more gorgeous than you—and richer men in the palace?” Caspian did not answer. “Well, I’m afraid that I might. I mean, it is the palace. Dukes, Viscounts, Earls, and eligible bachelors might be in there and I might be—” “Stop it for once, dear,” Caspian butted in and hid his reddened face away from Aravella. He was jealous, Ara knew. Hearing it, Aravella grinned. She stood up and before she walked away from him, she said, “but I have already turned down a viscount’s heir once, and I would turn down more, for my heart was already a prisoner of a man’s love. You do know who that man is.” She was in the middle of her walk to the palace when an arm gently wrapped around her neck and shoulders, slightly hugging her and protecting her from the cold. Their lights towards their destination were nothing but the twinkles of the milky way galaxy, the full bloom of the moon, and the far lit of torches from distant houses. “Why are you here? I thought you’re just going to sleep in that shed?” Aravella asked with a smile. “I couldn’t let my love walk alone in the middle of the dark, I believe.” ***** When her mother told her that behind the shimmers and glamours of the Stoneshire kingdom is the dark truth, she did not expect that it was THIS kind of dark. How servants were treated like restless machines, and how they were grossed out by the rich members of the ton. Aravella had personally seen it with her eyes. She was unbelievably shocked. She did not expect the setup and the mistreatment she had felt and experienced. The shouting of the head servant, the physical punishment when a servant had committed a mistake in their work, and how when she would meet a member of the ton, she would be looked at with unhidden disgust. When a glass plate accidentally slipped off of her hand earlier, she was given two hard slaps by the guards. Physical slaps she had never even experienced even from her own mother. She was mocked and was told that she could not function well even just a mere servant. And when the guards saw her beauty, she felt a different kind of aura she wished she never felt. Lust. Thank God, for a friend (more of her mother’s friend) had helped her. To make her safe from the sights of abusive servant guards, she was reassigned in the food storage section. The night was happening so fast that she just found herself sitting inside a secluded room where the food for the coming party is stored before being taken by the royal maids to be served in the event. Thanks to her mother’s friend, she was able to have a bit of rest, for the only work she had was to maintain the warmth of the cooked food before service. She was too tired, but the night wasn’t even on its half. The party wasn’t even starting. She could not even notice how dirty she had been because of the torturing work. How her mother was able to take such maltreatment in this work for twenty two years—she was wondering. Her bravery and sacrifices just for the comfortable life she wished for her daughter was surely unequaled. She sighed. “How I wish Caspian was here,” she said. And then, when she realized that she had more work to do, she continued stirring the huge pot filled with food to maintain its warmth. “Your Highness!” As she solemnly stirred the food in the pot with a big ladle, she was surprised when an unfamiliar voice of a male appeared from the doorway. “Oh, Princess, what are you doing here when you should be preparing for this night’s celebration?” Along with the man-in-coat with flamboyant collars and trousers, is a woman dressed in an elegant gown, but distinguishable as a lady-in-waiting’s dress. On their faces were both relief and worry. Aravella too could not easily comprehend why they kept on telling the word ‘Princess’ while their eyes were directed at her, looking at her, as if she was the princess, when in fact, she was not. “What do you mean?” confused, she asked. “You must make haste, your highness. Leave the food alone and we will immediately prepare you for a quick bath.” “What do you mean, ma’am? I am not the princess. I am but a mere substitute for my servant mother.” Inside her chest grew worries. Her heart raced. What do this laboriously dressed lady-in-waiting and right hand man doing in a small, secluded room only servants had the willingness to enter into? Why was she called the princess, when she knew that none from the public, not even the ton knew how the Princess of the Stoneshire Monarchy looked? Not even her face, her shape of her eyes, nor the color of her skin. Silence crept to the storage room. And then a laugh echoed from the strangers who called her the ‘Princess’. “Oh you almost got us, princess. You surely do. Let’s go.” Now Aravella found the lady-in-waiting’s hands pulling her arm, gently forcing her to leave her work and follow her. “Let us go, Princess.” The man went to the other side and pulled her too. “But, I’m not the princess,” Aravella said, confused and bewildered.