George was waiting in the entrance hall to be shown to his room in the Rechadian palace. Hunter stood at his side, and gave George a little nudge when the Crown Princess Alyssa emerged from a small side door. George shifted the cloak he held and glanced to see what Hunter was prodding him for.
His eyes fell on a bedraggled girl. Her normally shining brown hair was tied back in a ragged braid, and her eyes looked hollow. The green tunic she wore was smeared with dust, and she kept her eyes trained on the ground. The transformation from confident leader to this shattered shell of a girl was unprecedented, and George stood in shock for a moment before recovering his sense.
"Lady Princess!" he called out, and she came to an abrupt halt.
"Oh, Crown Prince George. I did not realize you were visiting, or I would of course have made myself available. My apologies."
"I didn't send word, so the fault is mine." George replied. And then there was a heavy silence in which Alyssa wanted desperately to look back down at the floor but couldn't seem to tear her eyes from his face.
"Well," Alyssa said, hoping he would interrupt her with something substantial to say. He did not. "I, um, I ought to go change out of these riding clothes. I assume I'll see you at dinner tonight Crown Prince. Hunter." She gave them each a brief curtsy before scurrying up the staircase.
"Did she look as though she had been crying to you?" George asked Hunter quietly.
"She did indeed, I wonder what that's about then?" Hunter mused. They spoke in hushed voices, and so heard the approaching footsteps. A guard burst from the same side door that the Princess had recently emerged from. Looked both ways and appeared both concerned and relieved, a bizarre combination of emotions.
"Excuse me Sir," George called out to the young guard.
"Yes, my Lord?" asked the guard.
"Where does that door lead? Where you've just come from, that is?"
"The dungeons, lord Prince."
"Thank you for your time." George smiled tightly and the guard exited the entrance hall. "Curious." George said to Hunter quietly.
"Indeed," agreed Hunter. The two men were finally showed to the Crown Prince's sleeping quarters, and so had to postpone further discussion of the Princess Alyssa. But as it turned out, the footman was a chatty fellow.
"Here to visit the lovely Princess Alyssa then, lord Prince?"
"That among other things," George replied evasively. The last thing he wanted was for court gossip to spiral out of control, not that it wouldn't anyway. George resisted the urge to sigh; he wished at least twice a day that courtiers had more things to do than talk about him.
"She's a lively one, the Crown Princess. Has a good reputation among the staff, the lady does." Said the footman, apparently not easily deterred from small talk. George made a noncommittal noise that the man interpreted as a reply, and continued speaking. "The Lady Princess has been different lately though, the servants worry about her."
"Oh?" George said, finally engaged in the conversation, "Is she not feeling well? I hope she is not ill."
"She's sick, terribly sick Lord Prince. But I don't believe it to be a disease what ails her, if you know what I mean."
"I can't say that I do know what you mean," George said a bit confused.
"It's not her body but her soul what's amiss, Lord Prince. Her heart aches for things she cannot have."
George stopped where he was, surprised that a servant might speak so plainly of the Princess' troubles. The footman however, did not notice that anything was amiss, because he too had stopped and was holding open the door to George's quarters.
Two floors above Alyssa sat at her window staring out at the horizon and into that murky line where the ground meets the sky. George was here at the castle. What on earth did he want? Alyssa knew that she should go to him, explain her curse, explain what she was and apologize for not having done so previously.
But she did not know if she had the strength for that tonight. Sir Patrick had rattled her, and the feeble confidence she had built up against the unknown had crumbled in the face of his accusations.
"It is the pain of watching everything you have ever wanted fall apart and being unable to lift a finger to stop it." His words seemed to echo in her mind, rebounding off of her brain. She tried to break his words apart, take them away from each other so that they would stand-alone and be just that, words. But instead they stood together to form awful sentences that she could not escape.
It is the pain of watching everything you have ever wanted fall apart and being unable to lift a finger to stop it. Alyssa thought she might understand that pain. After all, as she sat at this stupid window George was somewhere below her hating her for her deception. The country stretched before her rocked by the threat of rebellion. And the people lay beneath her, scared of their future ruler.
A single tear slipped down her face and Alyssa batted it away irritably. No, she would not cry anymore. She was a Princess, a Crown Princess, and it was high time that meant something more. Alyssa moved to stand before her mirror and stared solemnly at her reflection.
She saw a girl, her eyes wet with unshed tears and her shoulders slumped. Slowly, she wiped her eyes and straightened her spine. She brushed her hair until it shone, and as the sun set beneath the trees she buried her personal problems. She tore apart the things that Sir Patrick had said and stowed them behind an iron curtain. She looked at her curse and shoved that away too, everything away. There would only be the country now. She would fix this.
The next morning when Alyssa came down to breakfast, her mother let out an audible gasp.
"Darling!" she practically shrieked, "You look lovely this morning!"
"Thank you mother," Alyssa replied, her smile small but victorious. She knew she looked good, had chosen her clothing carefully this morning, something she rarely did. She wore a gown of brilliant blue satin with dark blue lace edging. The cut showed her figure to her advantage without being inappropriate. She had pulled some of the hair away from her face so that half of it was up and the other half tumbled in loose curls down her back.
"What's the occasion?" her father asked with a knowing grin. George had yet to enter for breakfast, but Alyssa ignored the suggestion.
"I plan to tour the city today." Alyssa said.
"Oh," her father said with surprise, "Well, you certainly may my dear."
"But what of the Crown Prince George?" her mother asked, her voice almost cracking with hysteria. The Queen's diplomatic instincts were tingling; the Princess could not snub the Prince.
"I greeted him yesterday, besides he shall rest in your more than capable hands. Or cousin Olivia can look after him." Alyssa said with nonchalance. Then she glided back out of the room without further comment or any breakfast. The King and Queen exchanged a troubled glance; this wasn't like their daughter at all. But she seemed to have moved on from the moping that had plagued the palace for the past week, so they accepted it without too much worry.
"No," Alyssa told Ryan as he reached fro her usual saddle, "I must ride like a lady." Ryan raised an eyebrow but made no comment. Something about her was different this morning, but he could not put his finger on what. Best to maintain silence his father always said, you never knew what was happening in a woman's mind, Ryan thought as he tightened the girth on the rarely used ladies side saddle.
"Thank you," Alyssa told him as she swung up into the saddle. With her rode Nick and Jay; her father had insisted she take a guard. Which was understandable considering recent events, she mused.
Alyssa led them out into the capitol city with no particular destination. She wanted to be present in their lives, to be a real person. She had spent too long behind the scenes, hiding in her dark cloak among the people pretending to be one of them. But she recognized now that it was time to stop hiding from her role as Princess. She must let them see her as she was, and diffuse the fear of her curse.
Alyssa remembered what her mother had tried so many times to explain to her, that their power was not from laws but from the people. And to gain the people's respect she must maintain her image. Alyssa had dismissed the notion at the time as shallow and vain, and a useless strategy to gain favor. Now she could see that it was not about reputation, not really, it was about trust.
The people must see that she is reliable and worthy of their respect, that's why gossip and rumors occupied the Queen's time. Her father might be head of state, but the Queen wielded enormous social power. As do I, Alyssa thought with determination.
She spent the day with Nick and Jay wandering through the streets and dismounting frequently to chat with the people. Alyssa asked questions about their trades and families. They spoke of the excitement for the coming Fall Festival, and they taught Alyssa how to braid the cornhusks in the customary autumnal crown that everyone wore to celebrate the harvest, nobility and commoners alike.
The people, although shy with her at first and wary of touching her skin, were thrilled to share about their lives. Their passion and vigor for living warmed her heart and she thought she might melt when a little boy offered her the messy crown he had constructed.
"I couldn't possibly accept such a lovely gift," she told the boy kindly, marveling at his craftsmanship.
"Please Lady Princess, you must wear it for the Fall Festival!" he said full of the bubbling excitement that all children feel around any approaching holiday certain to bring laughter and candy.
"I shall be honored to wear it to Fall Festival, and proud to tell everyone where I got such a gorgeous crown!" Alyssa grinned down at him, and he threw his arms around her in a hug. She was so surprised it took her a moment to respond and lay her hands on his little shoulders.
And then he was running away, calling a hasty goodbye to her, embarrassed to have touched royalty.
"You've heard the rumors, I presume?" Hunter asked George a week later. Princess Alyssa had been spending large amounts of time touring Rechadian cities.
George nodded solemnly in response. Yes he had heard the rumors, but he wasn't sure what to make of them. He wished he could talk to Alyssa himself, ask her and hear her reply. But she was avoiding him like the plague, always ready with an excuse to leave the room when he entered. He couldn't understand it, why should she want to avoid him? If anything it ought to be the other way around, he thought angrily. But George checked himself, because the magic was not her fault and she must be overwhelmed by recent events.
Still, he wished she would speak with him. He felt that they both ought to apologize, if not for magic, then for something, because he missed their easy banter and her bright smile. Her smile had been absent since the Incident, that's what he was calling the day in the study in his head. George didn't know if he wanted to yell at Alyssa for lying to him or hold her in a tight hug and promise everything would work itself out. Maybe it was these two conflicting desires that kept him waiting around the Rechadian palace for a whole week before Ryan convinced him to take action.
"C'mon, you're a Prince and she's your Princess, it's practically law that it has to work out!" Ryan said indignantly.
"I suppose," George said, unconvinced. "Everything just seems so confusing right now. I can't even tell if she likes me any more. She had tea with her newly chosen ladies in waiting yesterday. Tea!" he said again to emphasize the rarity of it.
"Yes, she's finally acting more like the Princess she has to be." Ryan mused. "She's still Lyssa though, somewhere in there. Don't give up hope yet, Georgie." Ryan said with a wink and then returned to cleaning the neat rows of leather tack.
So when Alyssa exited the drawing room upon his entry, George slipped out the side door and intercepted her. She tried to move around him in the small space, but he leaned the palm of his hand against the far wall and leaned over her as she slid her back against the same wall, trying to escape his gaze.
"Please talk to me." George said.
"What is there to say?" Alyssa asked.
"Rather a lot actually," George's tone was easy and casual, although his whole body was tight with tension. He needed to understand. "Alyssa I'm sorry for the way I reacted to the news of your magic. I only wish that you had trusted me enough to share the burden."
"Burden?" she asked icily. As soon as the word left her mouth she wished she could snatch it back. But Alyssa was frustrated and angry at herself, sad that she and George could never be, and most of all upset that it was all her fault. It was one of those excruciating moments where words escape through your lips and as you hear them, you know deep down that they are wrong and should never have been spoken, but like a flood they keep coming. "Heavens, George, I would never wish any burden on you."
"I did not mean to imply that—Alyssa I, I care deeply for our friendship and—"
"And what? You imagine that explaining our relation as burdensome will improve the situation? And here I thought Princes were supposed to be masters of charm."
"The gift of eloquence was not bestowed upon me as you well know, but that's beside the point. I do not find you to be a burden, I only imagine that since you did not share your concerns with me that perhaps you viewed our friendship as such." George said in a rush. He was berating himself inside his head for making something as intimate as friendship sound like a textbook. But his muddled explanation seemed to have calmed her, and her green eyes, which had been icy and distant a moment before, seemed to melt before him.
"George I'm sorry for being angry with you when it's not even you I'm angry at! And for not telling you about my curse—"
"Lady Princess, the magic to understand others is no curse, it's a gift of compassion. It makes you a stronger leader and friend." George said quietly, but with a firmness that made Alyssa lean farther back into the wall for support. Her rose colored gown rustled a little as she shifted, and she could see George's brown eyes widen as he became aware of their proximity. He removed his hands from the wall on either side of her, where he had stood to prevent her escape, and a light flush crept up his neck. Just as he looked as though he would drift back into the drawing room for tea with the others, she snatched his hand in hers.
"Thank you," Alyssa whispered. He looked down at their entwined fingers and she watched him for any sign of discomfort, but saw none.
"You are most welcome," he kissed her forehead lightly and then left her standing alone in the thin hallway. She was simultaneously grateful for the space to collect herself and lonely in his absence.
Part two of becoming the Crown Princess, she decided, would have to include some self-discovery; as cliché as that sounds, she amended wryly. Tomorrow she would summon the Fairy Delia to teach her. Tomorrow she would learn to control the magic that roiled inside her.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Sorry this took so long! I kept re-writing it because George and Alyssa's confrontation would be too angry, or too sad, or too insert other bad adjective here. So much frustration! Anyways, enjoy :)