Chapter Thirty Seven

After all of Rumpel's cunning plans, for him to lose everything so quickly. After all that Gilo had been through, for freedom to come to him so simply.

It was almost ridiculous the way it happened. But that's life. Ridiculous and terrible and lovely. And things never happen in the way you expect them to.

Gilo finished with:

How are you? How is Rosalie and how is your sister? I told father and Olin that I was indebted to you for my freedom. Father wanted to reward you with rich clothing and jewelry but I suggested the cow instead because it seemed to me you would find a more immediate use for it. But if you will let me know what you need, I will provide it gladly.

Please, come to the palace to visit us as soon as you can. My father and brother wish to thank you in person and so do I.

He signed his name.

I studied the letter. There was nothing in it about what Gilo felt towards me. All he asked for was a visit.

His handwriting was uneven, still in the hand of the eleven year-old he had been when he had stopped taking writing lessons. Yet, he had taken the care to address me as his "dear friend". A gentle hint that that was all I was. A child would not be so considerate.

There was some empty space on the last sheet of parchment. I cut it off with a knife, found a little ink and wrote a reply:

Dear Prince Gilo, I am very glad that you have come home. We are very grateful for the cow. We will make good use of her. I do not ask for any other reward. Perhaps, someday I will sorely need something and then I will ask. I cannot visit just now. Please, give my apologies to your father and to Olin.

My eyes were burning by the time I had finished.

Meanwhile, Rianne had read Gilo's letter and put it down. "You should set out tomorrow."

"I can't go yet. Rosalie has a cold."

"She also has a mother."

I swallowed. "I know she has a mother. You needn't remind me of it at every conversation."

The silence grew between us. I tried again. "You misunderstood me. I only wanted to say that if we wait until Rosalie gets well, we can all go."

"The prince invited you alone."

"I am sure he would love to meet you."

"Yes, but you're missing my point. You don't need to wait for us. Why not go alone now and for your next visit, take Rosalie and me with you?"

"There will only be one visit." I sat down at the spinning wheel and began to spin.

Rianne stared. "Why do you say that?"

I kept spinning.

Rianne put her hands on her hips. "He cares for you."

"What makes you think so?"

"How could it be otherwise, after what you've been through together and done for each other?"

"Rianne, having a shared experience and a sense of gratitude…is not the same as love."

"Well, then, those conversations you had, do they mean nothing?"

I regretted having told her so much. "Having pleasant conversations is not the same as love either."

"I would argue that these things often lead to love. But what do I know? I'm alone, aren't I?"

I looked up and saw the expression on her face. A reminder that I wasn't the only one who had been disappointed.

"I would never use that argument against you," I said gently. "You happen to be wrong, that is all. Can we speak of something else?"

But she would not leave it be. "What about your kiss? Don't tell me that means nothing!"

Heat rushed into my face. "The kiss helped me in my battle. Gilo knew that it would."

"Yes. But he could have done many different things. Why kiss you?"

Did she like tormenting me?

"All right," I said. "I will give you a reason. Here you have a young man who has grown up in a cave. He has not seen or spoken to a girl for nine years. Then one comes along, a girl who is…pleasant to speak with, I suppose, and, maybe even…not unpleasant to look at. At some point, of course, he will kiss her! It is only natural. It is only logical. It has nothing to do with love."

Rianne shook her head. "With time, it could."

"What do you mean?"

"You won't give his love a chance to grow. You've squashed it already. You want to delay your visit. And then when you do visit, you want to hide behind me and Rosalie so that he doesn't have a chance to speak to you privately. And then you want to never visit again!" Rianne picked up Rosalie and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

She was wrong. She didn't understand. It was easy for her to give advice. Still, I read over the letter I had penned and struck by its' cold formal tone, threw it away. Gilo's letter was formal too but it had a warmth and kindness to it that mine was lacking. Ihad been hurt by it but only because it wasn't enough for me.

I was determined that my letter would not be unkind either. I rewrote it (still, putting off my visit until sometime in the future) and sent it off.

It was growing colder outside. Gilo didn't write back.

This was proof that I had been right, I told Rianne. She scoffed. "All it proves is that you've succeeded in pushing him away."

"You're cruel," I told her and we didn't speak to each other for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, we named the cow Brown Sugar. Between my wages from the bakery, father's wages and the profit we made from the milk, we were doing quite well. We gradually bought furniture, curtains and new clothes and shoes for Rosalie. She was growing rapidly. She walked about the house confidently without holding onto our skirts and began to say "Mama" and "Elli."

I began taking walks in the woods alone, so I could cry without anybody seeing me.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Dear Ellis,

You sounded busy in your last letter. I didn't wish to bother you. But I hope, now that Rosalie has gotten over her illness, you have the time for correspondence. I'd like to know what your life is like. Whether you have everything you need. You know that at any time, you can ask me for aid. I have plenty to give.

I have been living at the palace for two months now. I can't get used to calling it "home" again. It is hard to sort out my feelings. I am daily grateful for sunshine and grass, for books and lessons and horses, for a brother and the chance to get to know him. Olin and I are inseparable. But at night, I dream of the cave and the children. Sometimes, Rumpel appears in my dreams too. I suppose this will pass.

Getting along with father has been difficult. He wants me to go back to being the confident, regal child I was when I was taken away. I cannot become what I am not. At the same time, he seems intent on making up for lost time by cramming knowledge into me as fast as possible. He is haunted by the idea that he can die at any moment and I won't be ready to take over the throne.

I've realized that I don't make a very good king. There are two things that a king must know how to do: Be the center of attention and give orders. Well, I hate having all eyes on me. At every glittering ball, crowds of people want to meet me and all I can do is think of places to hide. Olin helps with that. He knows all the best hiding places in the palace.

As for orders, I still can't shake the habit of offering to do things for the servants. My orders are rare and few. The other day, I was reading a book by a philosopher and he said, "He governs best, who governs least," which is a thought that appealed to me. But father said that the philosopher was a fool and that no king who held such a stance would survive very long.

I think that when Olin is old enough, I will offer the throne to him. He loves attention, knows how to give orders and has a keen sense of justice that father has not yet tampered with. I haven't shared this plan with anyone yet. I will wait until Olin is ready. Then I will ask. If he says that he isn't interested, I will have to do my duty, I suppose.

Won't you write back and tell me what you think about all of this? Does it interest you at all?

-Prince Gilo

I read the letter, once, twice, three times. As I imagined Gilo and Olin escaping from the crowds and exploring the secret hiding places of the palace, I laughed out loud. As I thought of Gilo's struggle to please his father, I grew sober. As I considered that he had confided in me before anyone else, I felt honored.

What had brought this on? The letter was so affectionate and frank, so different from the one that preceded it that I really didn't know what to think. Gilo sounded like himself in it. Yes, he sounded a little more confident, a little more educated and cultured than before. Now that he was a prince living in the palace, he was being perfected in every way, molded and chiseled, so this change seemed natural. Still, he had not changed in any important way. Reading his letter, I could hear his voice in my mind.

I wanted to hear more of it. I took most of my week's salary and used it to buy a fresh sheet of parchment and new ink. Then I wrote back.

Dear Gilo,

Even now, you have not gotten rid of the habit of sacrificing yourself at every opportunity.

It is very likely that Olin will love the idea of being king and will make a good one. He has the skills and abilities and he will have you as his advisor to keep him from making any serious errors. But if Olin does not wish to rule, I don't see why you should resign yourself to "do your duty," while he gets to enjoy himself. Why can't you two share the kingship and share the responsibilities and risks that come with it? When my sister and I see that there is a job to be done and neither of us wants to do it, we share it. No one wants to cause someone else to become a martyr.

I kept writing, painting a picture of my daily work at the bakery, the people I met, both kind and cunning, people who tried to slip out the door without payment even thought their purses were full, and even people who tried to take liberties with the young girl who served them bread. I wrote about Rosalie's newest accomplishments and how the baker had begun to court Rianne. As I described my life to Gilo, it seemed to gain color in my own eyes, to become richer and better.

The next chapter should be posted TODAY. It is very short and I have nearly finished it.