"Mother?" My footsteps fell quietly behind her and the sound of my voice came out in a choke.
Today, on the first day in years, I decided to follow my mother out to where she was going. She took her favorite horse, Edo, along with her every time and I found something aching inside of me as I trailed after her behind the trees. I knew what she was doing long before she had crashed to her knees at the faithful site she had gone to every week. This time, it was more special, since it was the anniversary, and she brought flowers with her.
There she was, the Queen of our Kingdom, on her knees, in front of my father's grave. She was beautiful, as always, even if it was a few years later, her dark curling black hair falling into her face and I could see the tears streaming from her brown eyes. Her gaze took its time to find my face and I could see the life pouring from her. She choked, sobs coming between words and breaths. I collapsed next to her, this time, so we were eye level. I knew I was twelve years old now, but I was only seven when my father died in battle, I was considered a beginning adult in my mother's views. So, why not start acting like one now?
"It's been five years, Elinor," my mother's voice sounded hoarse, a tone I hadn't become used to. I could feel her pain easing deep inside my chest. "Five long years that I have missed him, each and every day."
"Does Hugh know about these constant visits?" I asked, thinking of my new stepfather, the King of our clan, only because my mother needed an actual ruler. I hated how my mother felt so helpless in ruling on her own; I knew she could do it. But, apparently, she didn't believe in herself. I secretly swore to myself that I would be strong and be my own.
She gave me a look, even with the tears, that made me feel like I was an idiot. I narrowed my eyes, a little, back in her direction. "Of course he does, Elinor. He is the one that first came with me."
I shrugged. I wasn't very fond of my stepfather, only calling him by his first name, and barely speaking to him in private terms. He seemed so distant to my sister and I, the boys he cared for deeply, and it felt like to me that all he wanted was the power, instead of caring for my mother at all. No one would love her any more than my father did. That was a promise I held in my heart.
My mother leaned forward, calmly placing the bouquet of flowers on his grave. I could hear her hurting screams ringing in my ears. Even though it was five years ago, the cries I heard from my mother when she heard about my father's death would haunt me until the end of time. I titled my head back and focused on the sky, hoping to distract myself in some way. The dark clouds were starting to loom over us, causing the entire land to turn gray with mist and developing rain. I hesitated before thinking about everything again, keeping my thoughts stunned for a few moments longer.
"Do you think he will like these?" My mother's voice broke my meditation, my eyes snapping open as I found her staring at me, waiting patiently for an answer in return. I looked at the freshly cut daises and nodded. A small smile, the most genuine one I had seen since that battle, came onto her lips as her eyes refocused on his grave. I could see the name evenly carved in the stone, indicating that their fallen king had been properly buried. I put a hand on her arm, giving her that reassurance that someone was with her. The rain, cold and harsh, had begun to pour down on us, and when I started to turn to raise myself, I found that mother still on her knees, her hand reaching out toward the grass. The wind whipped my hair out of my face so I could see exactly what she was doing. My mother meant to whisper it quietly, but I heard it, all because the wind carried it over toward me. It was as clear as day; what I heard was, "I'm going to stay here with you. I know you never liked storms." My eyes widened, realizing what my mother was doing. She was planning on staying here all night, to easy my father's soul. With peering back at the castle over my shoulder, I sighed, rested on the ground once again, and held my mother's other hand, while the rain drenched us to the bone.
Seventeen was a big age for my clan. My father had been married, was with one child on the way, and named crown king by the age of eighteen, which meant that my age was the time of preparing me for those things. I had spent years of training and studying, learning the different cultures and clans in this land. I could tell the time by the sun in the sky and how the weather would be by astronomy. Only a couple of years did I learn how to sword fight, and my most recent training, in fact, is archery. I enjoyed it so much that I found myself sending arrows through the air as much as I could. Even to my mother's dismay.
Today, on the other hand, my father had decided that I practice riding the lands on my own, trying to beat my own instinct of territory. I protested, but after arguing with my father over nothing, I finally fell to his plans. I picked out my favorite horse, Ryder, and took off into the distance with him.
The cold wind hit my face with slick icicles, strong and rather distasting. But, on the other hand, I didn't care. All I wanted to do at the moment was ride as fast as I possibly could, escaping the enclosure of my home and the control of my parents. I felt powerful; in control of my own destiny, of my own choices. I wanted to live for myself, not what my parents wanted me to do.
The rain began to pound hard onto Ryder and myself, but I pushed him through. The wet rain soaked into my warm body, cooling myself a majority. I exhaled, in a hidden relief, as I rode on, allowing my mind to have a break for what felt like ages.
I came to an immediate stop when I saw two figures in the distance, both crouched on the ground, one being held by the other. I jumped down from Ryder, feeling my own clothes sticking to my skin as I maneuvered into the bushes, hiding myself from wandering eyes. I could tell that one was crying, the mother, and the other must have been her daughter. I could hear the mother moaning about how she missed him and that she wished he had never been taken from their lives. I, then, saw the grave sitting in front of them, a bunch of flowers resting on the ground. My eyes went back to the mother and I caught the sight of something sparkling off her head. When I peered closer, I saw that it was a crown. The air left my lungs as I stared at the family I knew immediately of, because what was happening now, was because of my family.
"Princess Elinor," I breathed out, frightening my own self as I did so. I knew that the girl there, standing strong for her mother, was the youngest child of their royalty.
Almost as if she heard me, Elinor swung her head, slowly, out toward the forest where I was hiding and poured her eyes onto my hiding place.