Chapter 1: "The Waiting Game"
Gold hair spilled onto a forest green dress, ringlets contrasting lightly with the shockingly deep color. She stepped from her carriage with a tiny-gloved hand lightly resting on the outstretched arms of the footman. As soon as her feet touched the gravel, eyes follow her dainty steps. The click-clack of her silver shoes echoed on the marbled floor of yet another Palace, to yet another ballroom. The silent servants watched her with guarded expressions.
Gold encased doors met her arrival to the scene. The announcement of her presence was met with the respectful silence of high society, then the hasty attempts to re-engage in conversation. The ballroom was swathed in velvet and satin, the swirling skirts and flashing gold of the elite competing for attention. The music engulfed the room's chatter, weaving its graceful way into the surrounding night. The ladies batted eyes, the gentlemen swooped down upon their unsuspecting prey. It was the scene fit for royalty, fit for her position.
The swooping cut of the dress's back showed off pale skin and defined muscles of a Huntress, but the gathered crowd saw only the demure posture she was forced to adopt for formal occasions.
The neckline danced on the edge of fashion; showcasing a drooping necklace of diamonds caressing the slender neck of the Princess.
The dancing steps traced around the ballroom, as she was traded, partner-to-partner. Never a moment for rest, always expected to fulfill her duty to company rather than to her aching feet. The eligible bachelors of the surrounding kingdoms all vied for her attentions, and were met with a mask of flirtations that kept them satisfied until they moved on to the next pretty face.
As her last partner relinquished his grip and moved across the room to flirt with the Lady hailing from West Umbrage, she turned and attempted to make her way, unnoticed to the wall to recline in peace with the dowagers sitting on chaise lounge chairs.
A tap on her shoulder interrupted her plans for escape.
"May I have this dance?" said a prince from a far off country. Bulgaria perhaps. Or was it Turkey? His handsome looks gave no suggestion as to his exact origin.
"Of course." She placed her gloved hand lightly into his proffered fingers, suppressing longing thoughts of an empty seat.
His large hand at her waist rested comfortably as he guided her skillfully around the other couples occupying the dance floor.
"May I ask your name?" he questioned politely. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. As if he didn't know. Her family's reputation had proceeded her, if the whispers meant anything.
"Cameron, Princess of Britain."
"A pleasure. I'm Zachary, Prince of Spain."
So she had been correct in her assumption.
"An honor, Sir."
The final cadence signaled release for Cam, and she forced a smile as she swopped into a graceful curtsey and allowed the Prince to kiss her hand.
"Until next time." He said, sweeping her a bow, then melted into the crowd of dashing suits and pastry colored skirts.
She knew by the end of the night, they'd both be just another pretty face.
And again the cloud of gentlemen descended upon her, once she was spotted without a partner. Her thoughts were soon torn away from the handsome prince by the multitude of others clamoring for her attention.
The night proceeded in the same fashion as all the others. Shamefully obvious flattery, honey-dipped compliments all forced her way, until the air was thick with the smothering perfumes and fake smiles of the social climbers.
She bore it all for nearly 4 hours until the stuffy ballroom was just too much. The moonlight night called her to its side, as the smell of roses drifted in through an open balcony. Escape was so near. The light breeze ruffled her hair as she exited the ballroom for the peace of the solitary platform. The sounds of the party drifted to her, across the ocean of her thoughts. Her absence would be noted all too soon.
It had become a game for her, really. A waiting game, of counting the seconds of freedom before duty called her back.
The night touched her skin, and seemed to envelop the small teen into darkness. It was so peaceful, so right, out in the dark alone.
"Your Highness."
The voice called her back to herself, and reluctantly she turned to again retained her position on the dance floor. Her favorite lady-in-waiting and only confidant stood behind her, with a melancholy smile as she watched her mistress enjoying the scant freedom the wind provided. But it was her duty.
"Yes, thank you Kat."
She turned and headed back into the crowded room.
Trading smiles, laughing at pointless humor and fluttering her fan in the well-bred manner engrained into her habits by years of training.
It was the act of a flawless machine of society. The act never slipped, never once betrayed a flicker of emotion boiling beneath the surface. Only her eyes, sharp and blue, showed the true flashes of emotion in the flickering candlelight.
The final strands of music faded into the night as she finally re-entered her carriage. The pretentious mask dropped immediately from her face as she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her gloves with a vindictive expression. The golden ringlets spilled down her bare back as she practically yanked the clips from her scalp. The green dress was hoisted above her knees as she lounged on the soft carriage bench. Relief was evident in her expression as she turned to Cam, the only other person present to witness such a breach in decorum.
"I thought it would never end." She said, sitting opposite her closest friend in the darkness of the night.
"Indeed, my lady, I noticed." A sly smile flitted onto the other girls face, gauging the mood of the Princess.
"How many times do I have to tell you Katarina? It's Cameron, or Cam. None of this 'Your Highness' or 'My Lady' unless present company absolutely demands it."
"If it's all the same, I'd prefer Kat."
"As long as we understand each other." She smiled; glad to have one friend in a world of fakes.
The swaying of the carriage lulled Cam into a deep stupor and the rest of the journey back to her castle passed in comfortable silence. The scenery changed gradually over time, shifting from open country to forested hills and eventually sloping into rocky mountains covered in a mass of green trees. The light of the full moon was blocked by the sable canopy overhead, barely illuminating the winding path to Cam's castle.
As the wheels slowed, the Princess flung open her own door and descended with bare feet onto the soft grass of her palace home. The servants here at her home knew better than to patronize their Princess. She had made it very clear she was capable of opening her own doors.
Despite the lateness of the hour, a candle still flickered within the windows of Thornfield Palace.
"Cam dear, how was the ball?" An elderly woman emerged, carrying a candlestick and wearing a thick nightdress to keep out the chill of the evening. Her knowing smile was directed at the headstrong girl, with no trace of anger for the state of her less than proper appearance.
"Why don't you ask Kat, you know how she loves these things?", She replied.
The woman merely laughed. "I see you enjoyed yourself."
"Couldn't have been more delighted to attend."
"Always the life of the party, I see." Buckingham smiled kindly at the girl she had raised as if she was her own daughter.
"Goodnight, and thank you waiting up. It's nice to see at least one friendly face." Cam said, before turning and ascending one of the many grand staircases present throughout the castle. The pale marble radiated coolness, and the stillness of the empty castle was heavy on her ears.
She was vary familiar with silence.
Silence was a woman's place in the world. She had worked her whole life to merely gain enough respect to be able to speak in a man's presence. It was humiliating to be degraded to such a feeble prison, one which many assumed inescapable. The staircase ended, leading to a passage way lined with paintings and carpeted with luscious reds.
In her chambers on the castles 3rd floor, the empty expanse of her room awaited her entrance. She resigned herself to a lonely night, full of longing for day gone by.
The satin gown slipped from her shoulders and crumpled to the floor in a heap she did not bother to pick up. Darting quickly to her nightgown, she hurried to keep out the chill of the cold October night. Once again clothed in her warm robe, she surveyed the empty room, and with a resigned sigh, she settled on picking up her dress. Brushing off the non-existent dust particles with her hand, she hung the dress in the closet, gazing into the depths of dresses upon dresses staring her back in the face. Her seamstress, Macey, insisted on producing the most lavish and exotic styles she could lay her hands upon, though Cam had a selection of dresses she had chosen in her own style. The greens were her favorite color, despite Macey's assertion that blue was much more her color. The deep greens reminded her of the forest, like pine trees stretching to the heavens with freedom to reach the skies. She longed for the rolling hills of trees, for the freedom stretching before her as she imagined the feel horses feet galloping off into some far off land where she could escape all her duties and resume a normal life.
Shaking off impossible thoughts, she climbed into bed, struggling to clamber into the raised mattress. The sheets felt like ice to her toes, as she slid under the covers. The silk pillowcase met her check with a cold embrace as she drifted into oblivion.
The days rolled by for Princess Cam of Britain. She had important meeting, business, and subjects to attend to. Her youth did not stop the demands of her position She was always busy.
The light streaming though the only window seeped through her eyelids, calling her from sleep. The room was warm-someone had evidently lit a fire in the grate in the corner of the room. On the table by her bed, a tray of warm tea and porridge released the smell of cinnamon and honey into the oppressive chill of the chamber. The folded note was written in Kat's hand:
Before you get angry at the servants for doing their job, think of this as a courtesy. It's part of friendship.
-Kat
The tea was delicious and warmed her to the bone as she drank down liquid to relieve her thirst. A smile graced her lips as she detected the taste of rosemary. They had remembered her favorite brew.
The scarlet neckline of today's gown itched her neck as she sat in counsel with 3 of her advisors in one of her mandatory meetings. Her stomach growled with hunger, as the meeting had dragged past her noon-time meal. She forced herself to focus on the issue at hand. Inattentiveness would surely point to weakness, and end up discrediting her position in front of the 3 men. Though respect was valuable, it e with a price: namely that of her 3 policy advisors- Newman, Cress, and Anderson. Though she had no doubt of their sincerity, each perused his own agenda (that of his particular area of expertise) with zealous dedication, barely stopping to consider the consequences of their actions on other matters. Each was a stubborn as a mule, through fiercely loyal to their Princess. But still they sat, spread around a sturdy wooden table.
Today, the argument was over a proposed grant of 10,000 pounds to a specific department,
"We need more schools," Anderson argued vehemently at Newman, in reply to his frequent bid to cut the educational budget.
"Yes, but education is not important if we are over-run by soldiers from neighboring countries!" the retort flew across the table.
"We're currently on friendly terms with the rest of the nations. We won't have any attacks in the near future. However the economy could use a boost, so if we cut taxation, the people would spend more on their education and other things." Cress interjected.
"Then how are we going to pay for the military and schools if we have no money?" Both Anderson and Newman looked indignant at the suggestion.
Cam sat at the head of the table, listening to the men argue the finer points of some budgetary decision. The kingdom of Britain was known for its revolutionary ideas on education and the role of government, mainly due to the late Queen and current Princess, who had taken active roles in the expansion of public education. Nations throughout the world had studied the system that enabled schools to provide inexpensive education to all children and youth living in the country's boarders. It was quite an accomplishment, while managing the rest of the issues facing a ruler, so Cam had enlisted the help of 3 main experts in the Education, Military and Economic departments. Yet the final decision always rested upon her shoulders.
The stress was often too much for her, at only 17 and forced to juggle the nation's affairs single handedly. Times like these she especially missed her father's levelheaded decision making. Cam had yet to feel as confident King Matthew.
"What if we split spending between the Education and Defense departments, and decreased taxation by less than 2%. It's not much for use, but to the poor it will make quite a difference.
The men paused mid-argument to analyze her proposal.
"That would be acceptable," Anderson consented.
"I suppose we could deal with lesser funds," Newman caved.
"Any little bit counts in taxation," Cress agreed.
"Excellent. Well boys, I suppose that wraps up our meeting for the day, so if you will draft the legislation, I will review it with you at our next convention. Counsel dismissed."
She was the first to exit the wood-paneled study. As soon as Cam felt convinced no one could see her, she took off towards the kitchen, which were on the main floor. Spinning around corners, and rushing down staircases, she finally reached her destination. She straightened her gown and adjusted her hair before she swung open the door.
The kitchen was an open room, filled with cooks tending to fires of roasting meat, or rolling out bread dough. It was warm here, from the heat of the ovens, and always smelled of baking sweet bun, her personal favorite. Sweeping towards the bread makers she approached her favorite of the kitchen staff. A skinny girl with short blonde hair turned, wiping her flour caked hands on her apron. She smiled when she saw Cam approach.
"Morning, Princess Cam." She said cheerfully.
"Hello Elizabeth, how are you this morning? Is your mother better yet? I heard she had taken ill." The princess replied.
"Oh, she's much better. I think she'll return in a few days."
"Glad to hear it."
"Now, how can I help you? Do you want some cake? Martha's just finished with one over there. Or I can make you some crumpet or whatever you want." Elizabeth looked eagerly at her, hoping to find some way to help her kind mistress.
"Oh just a sweet bun, you know how much I love your special recipe." She smiled warmly at the girl.
"Fresh from the oven, still hot." The pride was evident in her voice as she placed a bun onto a cloth and handed it to the Princess.
"Thank you so much Elizabeth. I hope your mother feels better."
Elizabeth beamed and curtseyed her thanks. She always seemed to forget Cam had ordered her specifically not to curtsey.
Shaking her head, Cam wished the kitchen workers a good morning, then headed out the back door to the freedom awaiting her outdoors.
The cool wind slapped her face. She hungrily ate the warm bun, licking her fingers as the sugar stuck to her hands. Feeling her strength return, she headed to the stables, her favorite aspect of the castle grounds.
The stable was a large stone barn located a short distance from the castle, at the base of a small hill. The palace had been so large, the stable had to be situated nearby to accommodate for the number of horses the royal family had obtained. The soft grass made it difficult to walk. Looking behind her at the imposing castle, Cam flew across the lawn, gown streaming behind her like a red flag. Her hair flew behind her, falling out of its previous up-do. A laugh escaped her lips, though she quickly stifled it. As she neared the base of the hill, her pace slowed, and she struggled to contain her breathing. Walking now, Cam entered the stables to find her stable aids shoeing her favorite mare, an Arabian with a black coat.
Stroking the horses noses, she cooed, "Fire, oh baby. Be a good girl and get your shoes fixed."
Smiling at the stable boy who jumped up to assist her she walked down the line of stalls, gazing at the various stallions and horses kept behind the wooden stall doors. Typically she rode Fire, her favorite, but she had many options. The Royal stables were stocked with the finest horses in the kingdom.
"What about this one?" she pointed to a tan stallion with a black mane and tail.
The boy looked rather reluctant to answer. "He's a new horse Princess. We've had him for only a few days. I don't think its best."
But something about the horse had caught her attention. Perhaps it was his unusual coloration, or the painted blue star on his forehead, but she knew she wanted to ride him.
"I'll take him."
The boy looked rather uncomfortable. Sensing his reluctance, Cam turned.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine. My father taught me how to ride. And I'm not without experience."
He relented, reluctantly.
"His name?" Cam asked?
"Rey." The boy answered. "He's spirited."
"Nothing I can't handle."
"As you say." The boy turned away, and headed towards a rack of saddles hanging on pegs in the rear of the barn. Her returned moments later holding a light leather saddle with a padded seat. It was not sidesaddle. They knew her well here at the barn.
"Would you mind saddling up Rey for me? I'm sure how he'll take to me, and I don't want to alarm him." She asked politely.
He nodded. Turning, Cam walked to a small room, which normally housed buckets. However, the stable master, at her request, had modified it into a changing room for the Princess, so she could change into her riding clothes without the court knowing of her "scandalous" breeches. Slipping on her men's clothes Macey had specifically tailored to fit her tiny form, she hung her dress neatly finally feeling herself again. Her riding boot stood in their position, shinning and black. She felt more comfortable wearing these clothes than she had ever been in a dress.
Exiting the room, she watched as the sable boy, Alex was his name she remembered, finished buckling the last straps and adjusted the last buckles.
He turned and handed her the reigns, then bowed her out of the stables as she waved to the rest of the stable hands.
When would these people stop bowing?
Beneath Cam, she could feel the power of the horse, and sense his desire to be free. She stroked his neck.
"Just wait until we are out of sight, then I'll let you free." She muttered to him. They trotted peacefully down a path, until the castle was out of sight and the forest engulfed them. The trees towered on either side, encasing the microcosm in a world of green light and rising dew. Underbrush bloomed with colorful flowers, the pines shed needles down to the forest floor, and the clean air was cold against her exposed skin. It was her release, her playground, her paradise. The forest had always appealed to her, ever since she could remember. As a schoolgirl, she would escape her tutors to find new species in the woods, or to gaze at the fractured sky through the gaps between firs. The forest held a mysterious quality that attracted her and never seemed to grow old. Each time she looked upon it, the forest was changed, different somehow in the lighting. The birds never sang the same song twice. She snapped back to focus.
The trail was faint, but distinct and Cam urged her horse into a gallop. Her blonde hair let loose, flew behind her and soon became tangled in branches. Rey was fast, faster than her mare had been. She relished the challenge of flying on his back, holding herself with knees pressed to his heaving sides.
Rey was like a kindred spirit. He possessed a certain energy, a desire to run faster than the streaks of green whipping past them. Rider and horse seemed to meld, and Cam rocked back and forth to the rhythm of the pounding hooves. Her face was scratched, nearly bleeding from the branches, which had caught her skin. She cared little for her appearance, preferring to fly as best she could.
Her freedom lasted for what seemed an endless hour. Rey had stamina, but eventually his pace slowed to a peaceful gallop. Cares were left in the castle, back in her stuffy study. She shed her identity as she changed her clothes; becoming an independent persona of the life waiting for her back in Thornfield Hall. Perhaps the greatest reason Cam liked riding was the solitude it offered. She had never been alone. Her entire life had been dictated from the moment of her birth. She had parents, but even at their deaths, there were always other to guide her. The moral compass she clung tightly to was disregarded and Cam was expected to comply. She had worked hard for the small pockets of solitude she bargained for. Being alone was easy. With no one to please, no one to impress. No one who stared at her as though she was a paining, no one to bow and scrape and act like she was a goddess. Just her thoughts and the birds singing. Cam always liked the birds, because birds sang their tunes without interruption or dictation. Their whimsical tune and flapping wings filled her with longing of what her life might have been. Of the freedoms she could never have.
Voices broke her reverie as always. The low hum of male voices broke cut through the morning silence. 'Of course.' Cam thought to herself. Looking down she took in her less than dignified appearance. Her hair was down and flowing, she was wearing men's breeches, and she could not disguise herself quickly. Confrontation was inevitable, as the forest was too dense for Rey to stray from the path. Sighing, she slowed Rey's pace and lifted the hood of her cloak to cover her hair. Her face, however, was still visibly feminine. The clopping of horses' feet rang through the trees. Cam could hear 2 voices, talking loudly and riding carelessly- she supposed they were young men.
From the bend a white stallion and black mare emerged sporting their riders. Her assumption had been correct- they were young, seeming around her age. Their clothing was fine- both wore white silk shirts under a fine woolen coat. Their breeches were finely tailored, not of the homespun cloth of commoners, but the finely woven fabrics of the gentry. The shiny black boots had obviously been recently polished, despite the slight wear of the road,.
Her keen eyesight took in their facial features. The taller of the two, though not my much, had brown hair, spiked in the front with careless ease-though it did not detract from his overall appearance. His eyes were crystal blue, and piercing, as though he saw everything and everyone around him. His chin sported light stubble, as if he had not seen the comforts of life for a day. His companion's pitch-black hair was similarly styled, though he was clean shaven, with black eyes. Both seemed not to notice the girl blocking their path, so deep was their conversation.
"…..we should be getting their soon. I think he said it was this way." Cam heard the sounds of their conversation drifting across the forest.
"We should have gone the other way," the other argued back.
As the distance closed, the brown haired boy noticed her presence first. His eyes took in her appearance, and Cam was sure he knew. He knew she was a girl. But instead of mentioning this fact to his companion, thus drawing further attention to her, he merely moved his horse closer to his compatriot to allow her room to pass. Both men passed her with out a second glance in her direction.
Just as she was nearly out of earshot, she heard the darker of the two say to the other, "Your Highness, I think…" but the rest was lost to the wind.
'Your Highness'? Cam thought with a panic. There was no neighboring kingdom nearby, no other kings or royalty besides herself in the heartland of Britain. Nor were there any other kingdoms farther north for royalty to be visiting. Hers was the only kingdom, and one of the most powerful at that. Cam's heart raced. 'They must be intending to visit Thornfield Hall, and I am not there!'
She spurred Rey forward with speed, heading in the opposite direction as the visitors. She knew of a shortcut, deviating from the main trail. She had never before taken it, but she must return back to the castle before the visitors arrived- as she was sure they would. An prince would never turn down the opportunity of visiting another castle. They were heading straight to her home, while she was barreling in the opposite direction.
Cam didn't want to think of the consequences if she didn't return home, preferring instead, to duck and twist as the under hanging branches whipped towards her face viciously. The path was barely defined; she guided Rey more by instinct than by eyesight. Eventually, she saw the sloping hills and green grass of her estate. Thundering across the bridge, she did not slow until she reached the stables. Sliding quickly off, she tossed the reigns to a nearby stable hand and rushed to change into her stately attire.
After arranging her hair hopelessly into a messy ponytail, she rushed out of the changing room and hurriedly thanked the stable workers and raced up the hill to Thornfield Castle. The servants smiled as they watched their Princess running gracefully uphill. Her kindness had made her allies, instead of enemies; friends instead of slaves.
Her footsteps slowed as she entered the main hall, her face sliding into a mask of friendly complacency she had practiced her entire life.
She had just settled her skirts and was just thinking of tea when a cry was made to prepare the gate. She smiled inwardly, settling into a chair. Her suspicions had been correct.
A messenger approached her. "Prince Zachary of Spain requests and audience with you, My Lady."
She nodded, dimly recognizing the Prince from some formal occasion or meeting,
"You may tell him his audience is granted. Show him into the Parlor. Thank you." She responded.
The man bowed quickly, before racing off. Making her way slowly to the spacious reception room, she asked a passing maid, Mary her name was, if she wouldn't mind bringing up some tea and biscuits and prepare a large dinner for the visitors.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Cam threw her hands in the air. "Will they ever learn?"
Hey guys. I'm back with a new story.
Please review, so I know if you want me to continue. (It will get more interesting FYI)