Chapter Nine
Suspicions
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Lia came through the door with a crestfallen expression upon her pretty face. I almost felt like running over and embracing her. But then I thought how ridiculous it would look for me to hop over to her and embrace her ankle, so I reverted to asking her of her troubles instead.
"Lia? What's wrong?"
She looked up at me and put on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing," she said shrugging her shoulders. "Everything's fine."
"I don't believe you." Her smile faltered, and she lowered her head.
"Yeah, well, there's nothing I can do about it now, so…" She sat on her bed, looking at her feet.
"I don't understand."
"I really don't feel like talking about it right now, please," she said softly. I nodded my head in understanding.
"All right… Uh, I'm going to practice my alphabet." I hopped over to the chair and then onto the desk. A couple pieces of parchment, a bottle of uncorked ink, and a quill were already waiting for me. Other sheets of parchment that I had written on earlier that morning lay scattered about. I looked over my attempts at the alphabet. They weren't all bad, really. For a frog, I imagined I was doing fairly well. Though for the age of twenty, my handwriting looked like a child's.
Lia joined me at the desk and also looked over my letters. "You're getting a little better, Philip, but it could still use some improvement." I nodded my head. "Perhaps if you tried a different way in holding the quill, it will come easier to you."
"In what way?" I asked.
"Well, instead of gripping it with your entire hand, hold the quill like this," she said, picking up a quill and holding it delicately between her thumb and first two fingers while resting it on her third.
I looked down at my own hand to figure out how I would be able to hold and write that way with only four fingers altogether. She must have understood what I was thinking, because she giggled and said, "Well, perhaps you can try to hold it between your thumb and only one finger."
"All right, I'll try," I replied while picking up the quill she laid down next to me. The new grip felt awkward after writing the other way for a time, but after I became used to it, I watched in amazement as the quill glided over the paper. My lines held no squiggles or weird marks and my letters looped elegantly.
"Wow," I heard Lia say.
"I didn't even write this well as a human. I guess the grip really does make a difference. Thanks."
"I do what I can," she replied, smiling. I laughed. "So," she continued, "I suppose it won't be long until I give Rosalyn your love letter."
Rosalyn. Even her name was beautiful. I thought back to only a short hour ago when I saw her for the second time. Her blue eyes sparkled while her voice expressed her natural authority over people. Although I must admit that I was taken back a little when she snapped at Lia. After all, she was only asking a simple question. Then again, Lia should know her place when speaking to a princess. But what exactly was Lia's place in the palace? This question bothered me more and more, and I was still suspicious of the way Rosalyn said 'father'.
"Philip?" Lia's voice shook me from my thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You had that glazed look again, like when you daydream about Rosalyn."
"Oh, did I? Sorry. What were you saying?"
She slowly shook her head with a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Never mind," she said. Her voice was almost laughing. "You really are hopeless when we talk about her."
"I am not." She only smiled more, lighting up her eyes. A sudden warmth spread through me, which was extremely confusing. She began to clear off the desk, and it was a while before I realized I was just staring at her, smiling like a blithering idiot – well, at least that's what I imagined I looked like. What was wrong with me?
Lia glanced at me, thankfully after I wiped the stupid look off my face, and said, "Some servants should be up any moment to take this desk and replace it with my new one, so I need you to hop down, please."
"Right," I said as I leapt off the desk and settled myself on her bed. "I'd help, but I don't think I could really do much."
"It's all right. I kind of figured." She gathered all the paper in her arms and headed for the bed when a brief knocking sounded from her door. "Just a minute!" she answered, putting the parchment down next to me. "Don't say anything, and stay out of sight," she whispered before walking to her door.
I hopped to where I slept and buried myself in the scarf that improvised as my bed, leaving just enough of a slit so I could see and breathe. Voices were muffled, though, as the servants came and went, and more than once I saw Lia glance toward me with an uneasy expression each time it seemed as though a servant addressed her. I soon succumbed to my curiosity and gradually squirmed out of the scarf. The servants were just setting down the new desk in the old one's place.
"Thank you. You may leave without a word," she ordered, which confused me even further. What a strange request. They bowed to her and left in silence, and she closed the door behind them.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
Her eyes grew wide. "What was what about? What did you hear?"
"You're acting very strange. What's going on?"
"Nothing. I must be hungry. I haven't eaten supper yet. In fact," she added, looking out the window. "I'm late, so I'll see you afterward." She headed for her door.
"Shouldn't you change first?" She glanced down at her simple dress and bare feet.
"Oh, right." She doubled back and selected a more proper dress from her wardrobe and a pair of high-heeled shoes. I turned around while she changed.
"Don't think your going to supper is going to make me forget your weird behavior. We're talking when you get back."
"Sure, fine. We'll talk later," she replied hurriedly. A moment later I heard her door close. I whipped around to find her gone. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to figure out why she was acting so strange, but no matter how hard I thought, nothing came to mind.
An hour later, Lia's door opened, revealing the girl. She seemed exhausted.
"So, you ready to tell me yet?" She gazed over at me giving me a look, and I almost felt bad for asking. Almost. I wanted to know.
"Tell you what?" she asked innocently.
"Why you were acting so weird."
"Oh. That. Well, I suppose you'll find out sooner or later," she said awkwardly. "I'm… betrothed."
The word hit me like a stone block, and my heart felt like it dropped into my stomach. Suddenly, I felt her finger gently close my mouth. I didn't even realize I had it open. She giggled, stirring me out of my stupor.
"Betrothed? To whom?"
"Some guy named Leopold," she said shrugging her shoulders.
"You've never even met him?"
"No, but I'll meet him the day after next," she said surprisingly upbeat.
"Why?" She looked at me with a confused expression and smiled.
"So I can meet him before I marry him."
I realized my mistake and shook my head. "No. Why are you betrothed? And why are you just now finding out about it? Usually one knows about their betrothal years before."
"Not all the time, and besides, it was arranged only yesterday, and the reason was so the two Kingdoms could make an alliance."
"The two Kingdoms? Does that mean that this Leopold person is a prince?" Lia hesitated and then nodded. "Isn't it usually the princess who is betrothed to a prince?" I eyed her suspiciously.
"That is true, but when I informed the King and Queen of a prince already interested in Rosalyn, they reverted to the only other choice they had: me. So, you should be thanking me, really," she said.
"Thanking you? For what?"
"For putting myself in place of where Rosalyn should be so that she can marry you, silly."
"You did this so that Rosalyn can break my spell?" I was dumbfounded. Why on earth would someone do that for another she barely knew?
"Well, sort of," she replied awkwardly. "I have to admit that Rosalyn declined the proposal before the King sent for me, so I really had no choice but to accept."
"But will he accept when he finds out he won't be marrying Rosalyn?"
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
I felt a sour taste in my mouth. I didn't like it. Not one bit. Who does this guy think he is to arrange a marriage to Lia? He doesn't even deserve her nor does he – why do I care so much? I shook my head to clear my mind of these ridiculous thoughts.
"Philip? Are you all right?" Lia asked with a hint of concern in her voice. I looked up into her beautiful blue-green eyes. They reminded me of the pond outside, and they even had tiny specks of gold in them, like when the sun hits the ripples in the water.
"I'm fine. Just tired," I responded, trying to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible.
"Oh, um, me too. We should get some rest." I nodded my head and then buried myself in the scarf as she changed. "Goodnight," she said, crawling under her blankets.
"Uh hmm," was all I could say in reply.
… … … … …
The next morning while Lia was at breakfast, I began to write my letter to Rosalyn. I had to get my mind off of Lia's betrothal. Why I was so bothered by it still eluded me, but thinking of Rosalyn soon pushed it out of my head. The quill felt light in my hand as it expressed my love for the beautiful princess. The first moment I saw her I knew she was the one for me.
"Philip?"
The voice sounded distant and soft, and I wondered for a brief moment whether it was she who was calling my name. My eyes focused, and I saw Lia staring back at me.
"Hmm?" I asked, distracted. She shook her head and smiled.
"I was asking if you were hungry," she said with an amused tone.
"Oh." I hadn't thought at all about my stomach while writing my letter, and as soon as I did it made a low growl. I looked down at my stomach and then back up at Lia. We shared a smile, and I put the quill I was using in the ink bottle for storage while we were gone.
At the pond, I leisurely swam around, snapping up several flies as they flew by. Lia was sitting by the bank as usual, yet today her expression was distant. I've never seen her this way before, and it made an anxious feeling grow in the pit of my stomach. I swam to the bank and settled next to her.
"Lia? . . . Do you want to talk about it?" She looked down at me, her eyes filled with the warm expression I usually saw when she gazed at me, and gave me a small smile. She sighed and lay upon the grass. I hopped closer to her head to hear her better, but it was still a few minutes before she spoke.
"Marriage is a big deal," she began slowly, watching the clouds drift lazily across the bright blue sky. "I've thought about my own wedding since I was ten, imagining the dress I'd wear, the colors and types of flowers I'd want, how I'd style my hair. But the most important part was whom I was going to marry. I didn't have anyone in particular in mind, but all I really wanted was someone I loved, you know? Someone who understands me… who knows exactly what I'm feeling even if I'm portraying a different one… someone I could talk to about anything."
"Like we are now?" I asked without thinking. My question surprised her – but only for a brief moment. I then watched her forehead crinkle and I knew, though I couldn't see it, that she was biting her lip. She was deep in thought about something.
"Philip," she said gently, but then paused as though what she was going to say was difficult to voice.
"Yes?"
"I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure what it will mean if I do."
This made me look at her curiously. "What is it?"
She hesitated, but then said, "I'm a . . . mm, what I mean to say is . . . that I want to ask you something instead." She looked over, giving me a weak smile. "I don't even know why I said 'tell'," she added awkwardly. I narrowed my eyes at her. She was acting strange again.
"Okay," I said slowly. "What did you want to ask me then?"
"This might sound kind of silly, but . . . do you think you could accompany me when I meet Prince Leopold tomorrow? I think I'd feel better about the whole thing with you near me."
I knew that this wasn't what she wanted to tell me, but I did want to go with her tomorrow so I let it slip just in case she changed her mind about my going. I'll have to figure out a way to get what she was going to tell me out later.
"Sure," I said in a suspicious tone, watching her expression turn sheepish. "I was actually going to ask you if I could come."
"Oh, great! Then it's settled. I know the perfect gown to wear tomorrow, too. It has pockets."
Then she scooped me up and headed back to her room. I finished my letter to Rosalyn, though it didn't end as well as I wanted. I couldn't get Lia and her strange behavior out of my head. Come to think of it, her explanation for her behavior earlier didn't really clarify why she looked so nervous when the servants were speaking to her. What exactly was she hiding?
