My mother doesn't usually visit me at night, but there is one time that she does.
I'm on the verge of dozing off when the door to my bedroom is pulled open, a sliver of dim lighting slipping into my room. As I turn my head, sleepily blinking my tired eyes, I see the figure of my mother standing there, dressed in her long white nightgown, a waterfall of beautiful blonde curls cascading down her thin shoulders. The Queen is easily one of the most beautiful women I have ever known.
She quietly makes her way into my room, leans in over my crib and notices I'm awake.
"Still awake?" She whispers, her fingers caressing my baby cheeks softly. She's smiling and I can't help but want to return the favour. "You're a little night owl, aren't you, my Princess?"
She doesn't take me out of my crib like she usually does but grabs a nearby chair instead, wood scraping against the floor as she pulls it over to my bedside and lowers herself into it. That's how time passes, in silence, and I'm almost asleep again by the time she speaks up once more.
The sound jerks me awake.
"Helena... my little miracle."
Miracle. That's something she has called me before, even though I cannot fathom the why. My mother doesn't care to elaborate, simply starts humming an ancient lullaby as she rocks slightly back and forth in her chair. It's soft, slow... and kind of sad. But it's beautiful.
Slowly, my eyeslids droop again and I find myself in a world filled with dukes and duchesses and slow, graceful dancing.
~X~
It doesn't last long.
The next time I open my eyes, my mother isn't singing anymore, isn't rocking back and forth in her wooden chair. Rather, she is sitting up straight, alert- her neck tall as she looks around. There was a noise outside, I realize, and that is most likely what woke me up.
It happens, as they say, with a bang. It isn't as much a bang, of course, as it is a swish. A swift, dangerous glint of silver, and suddenly- I don't know how- the shadow of a man is filling my room. I can't see him, limited as I am in movements, but my mother jumps out of her chair and puts herself between me and the stranger.
There is somebody in my room, I realize. Somebody that wants to hurt us.
It doesn't occur to me, in the heat of the moment, exactly how strange it is that he got this far into the castle without being noticed. Guards are supposed to be stationed everywhere, and there's always somebody awake.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?!"
The stranger doesn't reply, and I try to crane my neck, to look around, but I can't see much of anything. There's just my mother, standing in front of me, and a dark shadow stretching out until it reaches her. It looks like it could envelop her whole and I can't help but get this really, really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
She must know, logically, that this is a bad situation... that the odds are in no way in her favour, but even so she doesn't budge. Doesn't show fear and though that's admirable, I also think that's really stupid. It's clear to me, even if I can't see the whole situation, that my mother isn't someone who fights. She doesn't know how to, and she probably couldn't hold her own in a fight either. She's a sheep facing a wolf.
"Answer me!"
So I do the only thing I can do in my situation- I start crying.
The scream, high-pitched and screeching as only a baby's can be, leaves my throat and I think I hear an unfamiliar voice yelling something- perhaps a curse because he's about to be discovered, perhaps something else- either way my sudden interference seems to have been a bad move because he launches himself forward- straight towards us with a steel sort of determination- and the Queen jumps right at him.
I don't know what happens next, for they have left my line of sight. But I keep crying and crying all the same... because somebody's bound to hear that, right? All I know, is that at some point Ottavia and my brothers' scary butler arrive and as I'm carried out of the room, they don't let me look at the ground.
~X~
An assassin, that's what they say.
My mother was assassinated, and it was my terrified cries that alerted the servants and guards to the position of her attacker. It is a bleak, colourless morning, tinted with rain clouds and grey everything on the day of her funeral. It is as if the world itself is mourning her loss.
Once again, Ottavia has taken up the task of getting me dressed, but today I'm not wearing the beautiful velvet dress I was in for the family picture some weeks ago- I'm dressed in an elegant black dress with a white collar which runs up all the way to my neck. A little black ribbon is tied around it and throughout the whole ceremony I am held by Ottavia as she stands just a bit behind my father and brothers.
Belphegor and Rasiel look subdued today. They're not fighting, not insulting one another... they're merely standing there watching numbly as the coffin is lowered into the ground- a priest saying his final blessings.
A lot of people have gathered for the Queen's funeral- out of actual mourning or obligation, I'm not entirely sure – though I certainly hope it's the first one. Queen Roselyn was a good woman, and a good mother, and she deserves the blessings of everyone present.
The moment the ceremony is over, there are cameras in our faces, mics shoved in front of us so we can give our opinion on the whole thing. I can't say anything of course, but they're filming me all the same, as if they want some sort of a reaction. Are they expecting me to cry my eyes out? Are they expecting me to make a scene because I – a child of half a year – somehow miraculously understand the weight of death?
I loved her, my mother, even if I only knew her for such a short time- but I am not going to cry for publicity. I notice Belphegor and Rasiel aren't doing it either. (But that is different. They are Princes. Princes don't cry. It would be a disgrace.)
I hate the media, I realize then and there, and I wish I could tell them just what I think of their hurtful and probing questions.
We make our way out of the cemetery.
"Who was the assassin?"
"What's going to happen now?!"
"Are there any plans for remarriage in your future?"
It is Rasiel that finally snaps, a cry of "Cant you see she just died! Stop it with all the questions!" leaving his mouth, apparently unbidden, because he looks just as taken aback as most of us feel. Quickly, he sends a glance in the direction of our father and quiets down.
Barely a month later, we are all gathered again. Not for a funeral this time, but for an execution.
In the middle of the courtyard, a man stands. He is young – no older than 25 – with a handsome face and an aristocratic, upturned nose. He looks nothing like an aristocrat now, of course, dressed in rags and made to kneel down in front of the King.
This man's name is Ruben Eklund, the Archduke of Accidia, and he is said to have assassinated the Queen.
My father gives a speech, a speech about how he is avenging his wife by killing the vermin that took her from him. He has a list of clues, a list of incriminating evidence... and well, who will talk back to the King?
To his last moment, the Archduke shouts- "I didn't do it! I swear I didn't do it!", and when the gun is raised and aim is taken, I can't help but hold my breath.
A gunshot rings out, and that is the first time my brothers and I saw somebody die right before our eyes.
A/N: Poor poor Queen Roselyn, I kind of liked her character... so what did you guys think about this chapter? Feel free to leave a review and let me know~