When Prince Henry awoke, he felt Danielle's warm body up against his
own, her head resting on his chest. He watched her in silence, absorbing
her rhythmic breathing.
"Oh, my sweat Danielle," he said quietly, "you are my masterpiece, De Vince could not have done better." He kissed her ear, and rested his eyes, not wanting to wake his new bride. But instead, he wished to enjoy these moments they had together, the ones they shared and would always cherish.
A low knocking interrupted his thoughts, "may I enter, sire?" One of the palace servants was at the door, this gave Henry a delightful idea, "yes, you may enter, sir, but do so quietly."
A small man with red hair and hazel eyes entered, his hands were rough and cracked with work. He began to gather clothing to be washed, when Prince Henry cleared his throat.
"Sir, please, that is not necessary, but if you could, go and have the chef cook some breakfast in bed, if you will."
The servant bowed, "though, sire, I must warn you, the King and Queen are in a fowl mood. They wish for you to join them at once, it shall not take long."
Henry sighed loudly, not wanting to leave Danielle, though she was sleeping so peacefully, he felt reassured that she would stay in her slumber until he returned to her side. Heaving a heavy sigh, Henry arose from bed, and allowed his tenants to clothe him.
When he arrived downstairs, he took a quick glance around, "alright, mother, father, please make it quick!" He said loudly.
Waiting for half a minute for a reply, a suspicious feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Swiftly and quietly, he made his way to his mother's paradise, her garden.
There was a lace table clothe with woven delicate designs, which lay upon one of the garden's silver four person table. His mother's finest porcelain tea set and sitting on it, along with three matching teacups. He scanned the gardening area slowly, ensuring that he did not miss a single nook, but alas, nothing, no trace of human life was to be seen.
Growing impatient and irritated with this interruption, Henry made no haste in returning to his wife. Nothing could be closer to perfection. With grace, beauty and charm, Henry was surprised that he was even lucky enough to find such a lady before another man had.
He firmly regretted thinking that seconds after the thought had raced through his mind. For, another man had attempted to steal Danielle's heart, though unsuccessfully, Henry still feared what had happened during the small period of time when Danielle had worked, unwillingly, for Monsieur Le Pieu. She never spoke of that time, and Henry could always see the hurt in her eyes whenever he brought up the subject. Now he was just avoiding the topic altogether, something, he feared, may have a lasting effect on Danielle's emotions.
He re entered his bedchamber, ready to crawl back beside his perfect match before they were actually summoned downstairs. His bedchamber had become his sanctuary, but upon entering, there was something missing.
"Danielle," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Without Danielle resting in peace in her bed, his sanctuary became nothing more then a prison, which, before his life with Danielle, he had tried to escape from, on several occasions.
He searched high and low, ever square inch of the bedroom before he was convinced she was not there, now thoughts were scurrying through his mind, like unwanted rats. He could no longer contain himself, he collapsed onto the bed and screamed in agony into his pillow, the muffled noises, however, did not travel far. Broken sobs filled the air, and soon his pillow was wet with salty tears of pain.
Danielle awoke several hours later, with her eyes still closed, she felt around her trying to find her husband, but to no prevail. Finally, she opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. She bolted upwards, "what on earth is going on?" She screamed, "where am I, where is Henry." She found herself in a small torn carriage, drawn by two old, retired horses; sitting beside her was a vulgar man, and an equally vulgar woman. "Calm yourself, milady, there is no reason to worry," the woman attempted a soothing voice, but did not succeed, "we wish you no harm." She added, bashfully. "You have taken me from my home, and away from the people I love most, and yet to tell me that there is no need to worry, how, may I inquire, can I stumble upon such logic?" Her voice was growing more and more desperate with each word spoken, her syllables rotting of distaste and anger. The fowl lady attempted to touch Danielle's face, as if to calm her, but before her greasy finger's came within an inch of Danielle's fair and tender skin, the man spoke, "Hannah, do not scare the child to death, in order to follow through with our plan, she must be alive." "Yes, milord," Hannah said quietly, ashamed of her actions. "How very reassuring," Danielle's voice dripped with sarcasm and distain.
The last thing Danielle saw after that comment was the man's angry expression on his face, and his eyes were those of a heartless thug. His fist was raised three feet from her face, and all went black, as the hand came crashing down to put her into a restless sleep.
Henry dashed around, but there was absolutely no sign of his mother or father, this was absurd, with each passing moment he began to worry more and more of his young wife.
"Captain Laurent!" His voice fell to deaf ear, "captain Laurent, I order you to my side immediately!" But not even the future King of France could conduct orders to a person who was not around to hear them.
The castle was a deathly silent, he felt as though he was the only one in the entire world; everyone else had simply just disappeared. This worried him; there were many thieves out there, heartless fiends desperate to do anything to get their hands on his family's royal jewels, but who would go so far? Did they not know, that if they were to be found, which they most certainly would be, the punishment would be death? Who could risk their life over something as trivial as a piece of gold?
Footsteps interrupted the Prince's thoughts, they were growing heavier with every passing second, sending jolts of happiness through his entire body, flooding his emotions with an indescribable joy.
"Henry, what was all that yelling?" The voice belonged to that of his father.
"Father, she's missing." He paused, putting all the facts together, and resumed, on a different train of thought, "father, it is nearly noon, have you just awakened?"
King Francis looked startled to learn the news of the time, he could not remember the last time he had stayed in bed for half of the day, even the night that Henry was conceived, he had still awoken with the sun.
Unable to accept this, Francis shook his head, "no, son, you are delirious, what are you doing away from the Princess?"
Now Henry was enraged. He was a man, not a child. He had a wife; he was a married man, no longer the child that Francis had once known. "Father!" He spat, "I told you, she is gone, I must send out the guard to search for her, to bring her back!"
The King stood there momentarily, trying to make sense of this information. Logic was not an ally in the current events. For the first time in years, he had no answer to offer his son, no advice.
"Find her, Henry, it is only with the Princess here, that we can make sense of this entire matter," he said in a gruff whisper.
"But father, who would do such a thing? To kidnap a Princess, that is idiotic! He must have been born with half a brain to do such a thing so, so awful!"
"I know Henry, I know." The King laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, to ease the pain, "we will find them, and punish them, do not worry."
The Queen stood in silence outside the room where her son and husband conversed. A silent tear ran down her cheeks, but she would shed no more for this tragic matter. She had heard the entire conversation, and a buried memory came flooding back to her. She knew something, something that could not be spoken aloud, but had to be heard.
"Oh, my sweat Danielle," he said quietly, "you are my masterpiece, De Vince could not have done better." He kissed her ear, and rested his eyes, not wanting to wake his new bride. But instead, he wished to enjoy these moments they had together, the ones they shared and would always cherish.
A low knocking interrupted his thoughts, "may I enter, sire?" One of the palace servants was at the door, this gave Henry a delightful idea, "yes, you may enter, sir, but do so quietly."
A small man with red hair and hazel eyes entered, his hands were rough and cracked with work. He began to gather clothing to be washed, when Prince Henry cleared his throat.
"Sir, please, that is not necessary, but if you could, go and have the chef cook some breakfast in bed, if you will."
The servant bowed, "though, sire, I must warn you, the King and Queen are in a fowl mood. They wish for you to join them at once, it shall not take long."
Henry sighed loudly, not wanting to leave Danielle, though she was sleeping so peacefully, he felt reassured that she would stay in her slumber until he returned to her side. Heaving a heavy sigh, Henry arose from bed, and allowed his tenants to clothe him.
When he arrived downstairs, he took a quick glance around, "alright, mother, father, please make it quick!" He said loudly.
Waiting for half a minute for a reply, a suspicious feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Swiftly and quietly, he made his way to his mother's paradise, her garden.
There was a lace table clothe with woven delicate designs, which lay upon one of the garden's silver four person table. His mother's finest porcelain tea set and sitting on it, along with three matching teacups. He scanned the gardening area slowly, ensuring that he did not miss a single nook, but alas, nothing, no trace of human life was to be seen.
Growing impatient and irritated with this interruption, Henry made no haste in returning to his wife. Nothing could be closer to perfection. With grace, beauty and charm, Henry was surprised that he was even lucky enough to find such a lady before another man had.
He firmly regretted thinking that seconds after the thought had raced through his mind. For, another man had attempted to steal Danielle's heart, though unsuccessfully, Henry still feared what had happened during the small period of time when Danielle had worked, unwillingly, for Monsieur Le Pieu. She never spoke of that time, and Henry could always see the hurt in her eyes whenever he brought up the subject. Now he was just avoiding the topic altogether, something, he feared, may have a lasting effect on Danielle's emotions.
He re entered his bedchamber, ready to crawl back beside his perfect match before they were actually summoned downstairs. His bedchamber had become his sanctuary, but upon entering, there was something missing.
"Danielle," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Without Danielle resting in peace in her bed, his sanctuary became nothing more then a prison, which, before his life with Danielle, he had tried to escape from, on several occasions.
He searched high and low, ever square inch of the bedroom before he was convinced she was not there, now thoughts were scurrying through his mind, like unwanted rats. He could no longer contain himself, he collapsed onto the bed and screamed in agony into his pillow, the muffled noises, however, did not travel far. Broken sobs filled the air, and soon his pillow was wet with salty tears of pain.
Danielle awoke several hours later, with her eyes still closed, she felt around her trying to find her husband, but to no prevail. Finally, she opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. She bolted upwards, "what on earth is going on?" She screamed, "where am I, where is Henry." She found herself in a small torn carriage, drawn by two old, retired horses; sitting beside her was a vulgar man, and an equally vulgar woman. "Calm yourself, milady, there is no reason to worry," the woman attempted a soothing voice, but did not succeed, "we wish you no harm." She added, bashfully. "You have taken me from my home, and away from the people I love most, and yet to tell me that there is no need to worry, how, may I inquire, can I stumble upon such logic?" Her voice was growing more and more desperate with each word spoken, her syllables rotting of distaste and anger. The fowl lady attempted to touch Danielle's face, as if to calm her, but before her greasy finger's came within an inch of Danielle's fair and tender skin, the man spoke, "Hannah, do not scare the child to death, in order to follow through with our plan, she must be alive." "Yes, milord," Hannah said quietly, ashamed of her actions. "How very reassuring," Danielle's voice dripped with sarcasm and distain.
The last thing Danielle saw after that comment was the man's angry expression on his face, and his eyes were those of a heartless thug. His fist was raised three feet from her face, and all went black, as the hand came crashing down to put her into a restless sleep.
Henry dashed around, but there was absolutely no sign of his mother or father, this was absurd, with each passing moment he began to worry more and more of his young wife.
"Captain Laurent!" His voice fell to deaf ear, "captain Laurent, I order you to my side immediately!" But not even the future King of France could conduct orders to a person who was not around to hear them.
The castle was a deathly silent, he felt as though he was the only one in the entire world; everyone else had simply just disappeared. This worried him; there were many thieves out there, heartless fiends desperate to do anything to get their hands on his family's royal jewels, but who would go so far? Did they not know, that if they were to be found, which they most certainly would be, the punishment would be death? Who could risk their life over something as trivial as a piece of gold?
Footsteps interrupted the Prince's thoughts, they were growing heavier with every passing second, sending jolts of happiness through his entire body, flooding his emotions with an indescribable joy.
"Henry, what was all that yelling?" The voice belonged to that of his father.
"Father, she's missing." He paused, putting all the facts together, and resumed, on a different train of thought, "father, it is nearly noon, have you just awakened?"
King Francis looked startled to learn the news of the time, he could not remember the last time he had stayed in bed for half of the day, even the night that Henry was conceived, he had still awoken with the sun.
Unable to accept this, Francis shook his head, "no, son, you are delirious, what are you doing away from the Princess?"
Now Henry was enraged. He was a man, not a child. He had a wife; he was a married man, no longer the child that Francis had once known. "Father!" He spat, "I told you, she is gone, I must send out the guard to search for her, to bring her back!"
The King stood there momentarily, trying to make sense of this information. Logic was not an ally in the current events. For the first time in years, he had no answer to offer his son, no advice.
"Find her, Henry, it is only with the Princess here, that we can make sense of this entire matter," he said in a gruff whisper.
"But father, who would do such a thing? To kidnap a Princess, that is idiotic! He must have been born with half a brain to do such a thing so, so awful!"
"I know Henry, I know." The King laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, to ease the pain, "we will find them, and punish them, do not worry."
The Queen stood in silence outside the room where her son and husband conversed. A silent tear ran down her cheeks, but she would shed no more for this tragic matter. She had heard the entire conversation, and a buried memory came flooding back to her. She knew something, something that could not be spoken aloud, but had to be heard.