A Test of Loyalty: The Taming Fire Series

By Aislee Greenwood

Have you ever felt like something was missing in your life? Perhaps theres something you want to do, but your parents or the government say no. Maybe someone in your life has been cruel to you, or you see the people in charge being cruel to others. But youre only a kid. What can you do?

Author Aislee Greenwoods A Test of Loyalty introduces you to several young characters who have similar issues with their lives. All Lily ever wanted was the freedom to express herself: not to sit quietly by and allow her parents to plan her entire future. Kearne longs to escape the wrath of his cruel, short-tempered father, who never misses an opportunity to remind him exactly whos in charge. And Prince Baline, who has never agreed with his familys treatment of the lower class, longs desperately to help one of the maids in his castle earn the freedom she deserves. Unfortunately, hes also trying very hard to stop his family from going to war with Lilys kingdom, and its taking a lot of his attention.

A Test of Loyalty, part one in the Taming Fire Series, is a reminder that most of us have things about our lives we would like to change. And it adds insight to the question, Is there a way for every personto have a happy ending?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546250241

Aislee Greenwood

Aislee Greenwood loves spending all her time helping others understand whats going on in the minds of those around them, as well as how to gain control over their own lives: taking situations apart and allowing readers to gain a new perspective on old issues.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 Aislee Greenwood. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/22/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5026-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5025-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5024-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018908134

Image done by Aislee Greenwood.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To all

those who have ever sought out solutions to impossible problems…

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER

ONE

Kearne

I 've got to hurry, I've got to hurry, I've got to hurry… I think to myself in a panic. Before he realizes what I'm—

Kearne! my father yells, and my heart races as I fumble with the buckle on the saddle. "You get back in here right now! I'm not finished with you yet!"

I tug the horse out of the stable with urgency, but it doesn't seem happy to be rushed out in the middle of the night. It stubbornly takes it's own sweet time.

"Ugh! Come on!" I say, desperately pulling at it's reigns with all of my might.

Finally, it's far enough out that I can mount it. I jump on just as I hear my father demanding, What do you think you're doing? His voice is frighteningly close as I spur the horse into action. Kearne, stop! You know what I'll do if you leave!

But I can't stop now: I'm too afraid. I just had an argument with my father, stole from him— which I'm not sure he's figured out just yet— and disobeyed him all in one night. I'm not about to turn around now. The adrenaline is surging through me as the horse thunders down the path leading towards the forest. I don't know what's more terrifying: leaving, or the idea of ever having to come back. I have never been free before. Eighteen years of living under my father's thumb, and now I've finally worked up the guts to escape. There's no way I'm ever coming back.

I can finally make a different life for myself. No father, no one to disappoint, and no one's demands that I have to live up to. No more living in fear of making him angry.

This time, I really am free.

—Kearne

Anna

Anna! says a male voice as I exit the servant's quarters.

Uncle? I ask, stopping to stare at the man in confusion as he jogs over to me. Why aren't you in the kitchens?

My uncle is the one who does most of the cooking in this castle, along with the help of my aunt. It’s anyone’s guess as to why he’d be wasting his time jogging down random hallways when there are dozens of mouths to feed: he could get in serious trouble if he’s caught. The Royals aren’t exactly nice people when they feel that someone has disappointed them, and there is little that they find more displeasing than a servant who doesn’t do their chores. My uncle should be working right now: not running around the castle looking for me.

I figured I could spare a few minutes to come and speak to you, he says.

I shake my head. Why do you want to talk?

The look on his face says that he feels deeply concerned for me. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked really terrible yesterday. Is there anything you want to tell me about?

I sigh exasperatedly. This is why he's risking getting in trouble? To ask me how I'm doing? "Uncle, I'm fine—"

You didn't look fine, he insists. Come on: tell me what's happening.

Nothing's happening! I tell him. It's the same today as it's been every other day…

That last bit, at least, is true. Any problems I have were going on long before last night. In fact, they’ve been going on for years. There’s no point in him suddenly fussing over them now. I’m not even sure what I did to tip him off yesterday…

He gives me a look that says he clearly doesn't believe me. Come on, Anna: you always come home late at night looking so exhausted. It’s as though you are working twice as hard as you should be. Ever since your mother died you've—

"Ugh, that was years ago! I tell him. I'm fine. Now will you let me go? I need to hurry and do my chores: I'm already late."

I start walking away from him, before he has the chance to stop me.

Anna… he says, but he lets me leave: knowing that I'm not the type to give in and tell him things just because he pries.

I know he hates that I close myself off to him, but none of my problems are things I want to talk to him about. I don't know how I could. Even the half that I would be willing to mention, he's already aware of: he goes through those things, too. Being a servant just really sucks. And the rest, is…just too humiliating to mention. I don’t want him to know what’s really going on and pity me for it. And what good would that do? It wouldn’t make it stop happening: it would just make me feel embarrassed. And believe me, my life is already bad enough without having to constantly feel like that.

The life of a servant is thankless, not to mention exhausting. He knows that better than anyone. My uncle never gets a break from being the Royal Cook and preparing endless amounts of food for everyone in this castle, and at the end of each day, people like him and I hardly get any of it. He tries to save things for my siblings and cousins whenever he can, but he's gotten in serious trouble for it on several occasions. I told him it wasn't worth his life, and I think he realized how right I am. If I lost him, I don't think I could keep going. And then who would be left to take care of the other children?

I suppose I'm not exactly a child anymore myself: I really haven't been for a long time now. Being the oldest, I had to take over things when my mom died. Her maid duties weren’t going to take care of themselves. And the people in charge of this castle don’t care if you just lost your mother: they only care if their clothes are washed and their chamber-pots are emptied.

But that's the life of a servant, I suppose: you have to do what you’re told, and never expect any sympathy from anyone. I really had to grow up fast, and I’ve learned that the adult world is much worse than the child’s one: where my biggest worry was staying out of everyone’s way all the time, and making sure that I took care of the other children.

Now, my long list of chores are the least of my worries, despite how exhausting and disgusting they might be. Because the worst parts of my day are the ones that no body told me were a part of the job: the ones I could never have prepared myself for.

The things I will never speak about.

Just when you think life is hard, you find out that it can get much, much harder.

—Anna

Baline

I sigh, turning to the final page in my book and knowing before even reading the words exactly what they are going to say. I've read this story so many times, but what else is there to do in this castle? The only alternative is leaving my bedroom and actually interacting with my family, but we really don’t get along that well. I suppose I could go and ride my horse, but…I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I think she deserves a break from all the adventures we’ve been having along the forest paths. And besides, it’s not like I could really go that far, anyways: as the next in line for the throne, I’m kind of stuck with this castle, even if I don’t want any part of it.

It’s no secret around here that I’m a bitter disappointment to my father. He doesn’t bother trying to hide anymore that my sister is his favorite. If he has it his way, I’m sure he’ll make her Queen somehow, and honestly? I’d be glad to hand the throne over. I have no interest in being the kind of ruler that my father wants me to be, and my sister, Belle, seems perfectly fit for it. Fighting wars with our southern neighbors? Having petty power-struggles with vicious nobles who just want to be mean to everyone? Who would want to inherit that?

Well, Belle would, apparently. I think I would much prefer sitting here in my nice, quiet bedroom and reading my books.

Admittedly, I’m probably a little too old to be reading these fairy-tales, but because it ticks my father off so much, I kind of enjoy doing it. Honestly, I don’t know why he hates them so much anyways: they’re actually really nice stories. I mean, sure, they’re a little fanciful, but…I kind of like it. It makes me feel like it might actually be possible for the world to be a better place.

Because it really isn’t such a great one. And my father and sister only seem to want to make it worse. They torture their enemies in the dungeons and plot to conquer our neighboring kingdom, as though the people in it— who’s lives would be taken or destroyed— don’t even matter. And meanwhile our own people suffer. Of course, that’s one of the reasons why they want to conquer Lightwood so badly: Blackwood is suffering; its people slowly starving to death, and our southern neighbors are the only ones with lands fertile enough to support us. Though my father has his own reasons for hating them…

We’ve been at war for centuries, really. Once upon a time, we were all one kingdom, but our ancestors came up here to escape the tyranny that ruled over us. I guess there was a lot of racism, and the people also had to conform to one religion, or else they’d be executed. Our ancestors just wanted freedom from that, so they traveled past the Great River that now separates our two kingdoms. We’ve hated each other ever since. Though it became personal for my father long before my sister and I were even born: when his first son died in an attack by the Lightwoods. He now thinks that all Lightwoods are evil and deserve to be exterminated. I really feel like that assessment is a little drastic.

I’m sure a lot of them are perfectly nice people: just living out their lives, not even realizing that there is a king plotting to take their farms and destroy their homes in order to hurt the Royal Family that he believes to be responsible. Their former king, who killed my dad’s first son, however, isn’t even alive anymore to suffer from any revenge that my father tries to take upon his family. That’s how many decades ago this happened. Though my father will not rest until he at least kills the man’s own children, like that’s somehow going to bring back the one he lost.

Why is he such a terrible person?

I shake my head. People like him shouldn’t be given charge of an entire country: they focus more on their own selfish desires than on the needs of others. Though our family has been on the throne for generations, and that’s apparently not about to change now.

The only people allowed to take the throne are people with seriously pure bloodlines. There’s this old belief that we’re descended from gods or angels or some other nonsense like that. Although it’s not really that hard to believe when some of us have abnormal abilities, like telepathy, or telekinesis, and quite a number of nobles and royals have an abnormal coloring: blue eyes. Skin-colors vary from person to person in this kingdom, and hair and eye-colors are usually shades of brown or black, but amongst the nobility there is a tendency to have blue eyes, as though we really are descended from some strange beings that had very funny colors.

The Lightwoods have something similar. A lot of their nobles, from what I hear, have yellow hair, and their King and one of his daughters even have orange hair. I’ve never seen this for myself, but it sounds really bizarre. Though I suppose it’s no stranger than my eye-coloring. I just wish that our colors and our bloodlines didn’t have to mean that we get to treat everyone like we’re better than they are. I mean, sure, not every noble family is a bunch of pale, blue-eyed people: as far as that goes, we’re perfectly diverse, because at the start of our kingdom they created new noble families from those who contributed the most to the rebellion. But the problem from there going forward is that noble families are expected to marry into noble families, therefor preventing the common people from ever rising in station. It was like our country started off with good intentions: abolishing slavery, giving freedom of religion and all that, and then it just built up another class-system in which certain people will never get a chance to prosper, just because of what family they were born into.

That’s really stupid if you ask me.

I sigh, staring at the book in front of me and wishing that I could solve these kinds of problems as easily as the people in the story did. Isn’t there some way that I can help stop this conflict, and fight for more equal rights while I’m at it? I’m sick of walking around and seeing my family and all the nobles treat servants like they’re trash and talk about the peasants like their lives don’t matter: like it’s a nuisance that they even exist. We’re supposed to be in these positions of power so that we can solve their problems and make their lives better: not treat them like tools to use whenever we want something.

At least that’s how it should be, in my opinion. Why can’t the world just see things my way? Why can’t my father and sister be better people, and better rulers?

Unlike my sister, I am not about to just go along with whatever daddy says. I want to at least try to make things better. Though it makes me wonder…if I were to try and change things: stop this war with the Lightwoods, for a start…would the Lightwoods be so willing to go along with it and create peace as I am…?

Or are their royalty really just as bad as my father and sister are?

—Baline

Lily

Princess Lillian! I hear the maid yelling behind us as we dash down the hallway. "You get back here this instant!"

Quick: hide in here! I say to Treadway, pulling him into a wardrobe and signaling him to keep quiet. We hold our breath as the maid comes running into the room.

Lillian! Where are you? I know you’re in here! she yells, sounding livid. I feel my heart beating quickly in my chest.

I can hear her footsteps growing rapidly closer, and I know that we’re about to be caught, when—

What are you doing? I hear a familiar voice ask from the doorway. I’d know that voice anywhere: it’s my mother.

That girl! the maid yells, and I cringe at the thought of how much trouble I’m about to get into. She set the curtains on fire, ma’am! she continues in an outraged tone, then seems to realize that she’s yelling at her Queen. ’N sorry for shoutin’, ma’am.

It’s alright, I hear my mother say, although her tone suggests that she is trying hard to be patient. Is the fire put out?

Yes, ma’am.

Then I’ll deal with her when she’s found, she tells the maid, and I gulp. For now, I need you to help me downstairs.

Yes, ma’am.

I listen to their footsteps fade away before letting out a long breath.

Was the young man with her? I hear my mother asking as they disappear down the hallway.

Aye, the maid responds. She was with a boy, and I don’t know what they were up to… Her voice fades too quickly for me to hear the rest.

I roll my eyes in annoyance: it’s because of my mother that I am hanging out with this boy, anyway. I know what she's doing, and I'm not falling for it: I'm not interested in boys. Although I have to admit that I’ve actually enjoyed this one's company a lot more than I would have imagined so far. We’ve gotten up to a considerable amount of mischief in such a short amount of time that I think he’s helped me break my own record. And that’s saying something.

And it’s all thanks to my mom for introducing us.

Treadway laughs, looking down at me. Is your life always like this? he asks.

More or less, I tell him, pushing open the door to the wardrobe and shuffling out.

So…did you really do that with your mind? Catch the curtains on fire, I mean?

I shrug. Yeah. I've sort of always been able to do it.

You know, I heard rumors that you could do that, but I thought they were just stories.

Yeah. I guess Dad tries to keep it quiet. He doesn't want everyone else to know what a trouble-maker I am.

He laughs. "So…how much trouble do you think we’re going to be in?"

Don’t worry about it, I tell him. I’ll just say it was all me.

Won’t you get punished for it, though?

I’m the next in line for the throne: what are they going to do? I ask. Mum can scold me all she wants: she’ll never do anything. It’s always the same thing. I adopt a stern voice, wagging my finger and furrowing my eyebrows: imitating the way my mother always looks when she's angry. "‘You need to stop messing around and act like a mature young lady!’" I mimic.

Treadway laughs. That sounds like a pretty good imitation. Then he shrugs. Well, from what little I’ve heard her say.

Trust me, it’s all the same, I tell him.

Do you think other princesses get away with the things you do? he asks, sounding doubtful.

I don’t know, I reply, staring at a shelf of books against the far wall as I think about it.

What are other princesses like?

—Lily

CHAPTER

TWO

Belle

W e have over one-hundred and fifty able-bodied men who are trained and ready, Your Majesty, the young lord says to his King. My father assures me that we train our men better than anyone else in the kingdom.

It's a pretty frequent occurrence these days that gentry (lords and other people of high title) come to visit the castle, just to tell us how things are going in their parts. My father likes reports on how well our men are being trained to fight the Lightwoods, and many of them seem to think it will gain them more points with him if they deliver the report in person. The ones that travel from farther away usually end up staying the night, which is why we’re having this discussion over breakfast. The young lord before us has come in his father’s place. In a few years, I’m sure he’ll be inheriting his father’s title. It seems as though he’s already giving him practice for that day.

My father raises an eyebrow at the young man's assurances, smirking. That’s quite a claim. I hope to put your father's men to good use very soon. We’ll just have to see how ready they are, now won’t we? he says, then takes a bite of his breakfast. He likes to make it seem as though even something like eating is more worthy of his time than the men speaking to him. He says it reminds them that he is King, and that they have to wait respectfully for as long as he pleases, until he’s ready to hear them. He never misses an opportunity to remind people who’s in charge.

I promise you, they won’t disappoint, the boy responds, seeming oblivious.

I try my best to stifle a laugh as I take another sip of my drink. This young man has a lot to learn: he sounds way too eager to please. My father may like people competing to impress him, but he doesn’t like someone who can’t back up their own words. Empty promises made in the name of pleasing him mean absolutely nothing. Now, perhaps these men he’s referring to really are well trained, but from the way he tries to promote them, it’s obvious that he’s desperate to convince us. Whether that means he’s lying, or just that he wants to make a good first impression on the King, it’s still not exactly the best way for him to come off.

Fortunately for him, he’s young enough that my father is being patient with him. That won’t last for long, though. He’ll need to learn quickly.

Well, my father says after taking another bite or two. The meal seems to have come to an end. Be sure to tell your father what I said: I’ll be calling on his men very soon.

I will, Your Highness, the boy assures him.

We all stand up.

My father gives the boy a nod. Thank you for coming, Garret. Oh, and give your mother my regards, will you? It’s been too long since I’ve seen her here at court.

I will, he responds eagerly, seeming once again oblivious to any underlying meanings behind the King’s words. And I’ll tell my father to make sure that the men are ready.

Good man. We wish you the best of luck on your travels.

The boy nods. It was a pleasure seeing you, Your Majesty! And you as well, Princess Belle.

I give him a forced smile. My father nods patiently to young Garret, who finally backs away: leaving the room. Though not before bowing several more times. It's painfully ridiculous, however it is amusing.

We watch him go, and then my father chuckles. Well, what did you think of him?

I grimace, raising an eyebrow. He’s got a lot to learn. Kind of adorable, though, I suppose.

His right eyebrow raises half an inch. And would you…ever consider…?

Oh, no! I scoff. "He’s not that cute! No: he reminds me too much of Baline. I could never fall for a guy like that."

I suppose, he says. Although he would be a pushover in the marriage: you would have complete control of everything. We both know your brother is clearly not fit to rule, and I’d trust you with this kingdom over any of those nobles. I’d like to know that you found a husband who listens to you.

My eyebrow only shoots up further. A man who listens to a woman? Yeah, right!

He grins, sitting back down in his chair. "Any man who didn’t listen to you would be treading dangerous water. You’re more terrifying than your mother was."

I thought you said that Mom was kind, and gentle?

He sighs. Well…she was, he admits, then chuckles sadly. But if you did something she didn’t approve of, she had a scornful glare like no other. She could make the most self-assured man feel like he was doing everything wrong.

I chuckle too, and then we’re quiet for a moment.

You never talk about her, I tell him quietly, wishing I knew more about the woman who gave birth to me and Baline. I don't know a single detail, other than the fact that I look just like her. He won’t even tell me her name. It’s a taboo subject: no one is allowed to talk about her, unless His Royal Majesty says so.

And he never does.

So, naturally, I haven’t been able to gleam any details from any of the other people who live in this castle, either: they know how much trouble they’d be in if they said a word.

He gets really still now, and for just a moment, I think he might be about to tell me something. Instead, he finally says, That’s because I don’t want to.

He looks away as he busies himself with getting up, like it’s a completely consuming project. With a distracted glance around the room, he changes the subject. "Well, as per usual, your brother did not decide to attend this meal with us. He shakes his head disapprovingly. If you see him, tell him I want him practicing his swordsmanship. I’m tired of Baline locking himself away in his chambers all day!"

I sigh too. "I will. Not that he’ll listen, I add in annoyance. He refuses to get out of that fantasy world he lives in. Nothing I say ever gets through his thick skull."

My father shakes his head angrily. "That boy… he says, seeming to try to contain himself. You know I really would like for him to just get his head out of the clouds! I would love to just…be able to connect with him. I don’t understand why he…"

He huffs, reigning in his emotions. I’m the only one who ever gets to see him like this: a King isn’t supposed to show emotion. Around most people, you wouldn’t even know he cared about anything at all. I don’t get why Baline can’t see how much our father loves him. Maybe it would help, though, if Dad wasn’t getting angry with him all the time: he only shows his tender side to me. Baline always somehow ends up on his bad side.

I need to go and speak to your stepmother, he tells me, shaking his head. If you see your brother, tell him he needs to start training with that sword, alright? I’m not gonna tell him a fourth time!

I will, I assure, and he walks off.

I let out a long sigh, thinking how our family is rather abnormal. I mean, I like the part where I’m treated more like a son than a daughter, since my dad actually takes me seriously (and implies to all the nobles that they should too, or they might find themselves missing a head), but the rest of our abnormalities aren’t so great.

I know Dad’s been better about it since he got remarried, but he used to sleep around a lot, and I kind of think he still does. Actually, I know he has at least once since he married Darcel, because one of his old mistresses had a baby almost a year after her husband died, and I have a hard time believing that she carried that thing for eleven months. Plus, Darcel seemed pretty convinced it was his, and when I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it. We kind of have this silent understanding that it’s my half-brother, though he technically hasn’t admitted this out loud.

Plus, ever since her husband died, the woman has been staying at the castle, since their lands had then gone to the man's younger brother. My father has been generously letting her stay here, although she mostly keeps to herself. I get the feeling that my stepmother, Darcel, doesn't like her being around, so it's probably smart of her to stay out of sight. If that wasn't all evidence enough, I don't know what real evidence would look like. We all know what's going on: we just don't talk about it.

I’d rather not think about it, either. My father is a good man: he’s just been really messed up ever since my mom died. Nineteen years, and he still hasn’t gotten over her. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if their time together hadn’t been so short, but I think he still mourns the fact that she didn’t get to live a full life.

I suppose when you think about it, Baline and I are lucky that she had us both before she died. She held out just long enough to bring us into the world…and then left our father all alone with two little babies to raise. He did alright with me, but as we got older, Baline grew apart from the rest of us. He's just a sensitive boy, I think, and Dad was always really hard on him. It kind of pushed the two of them apart…

It pushed us apart at the same time. I was always Daddy's Little Girl, so I took his side in everything, and Baline always got upset with me for it. I just don't understand why my brother has to be so sensitive about everything. We’re not four years old: he needs to learn how to grow up.

Oh, Baline… I sigh tiredly. I wish we hadn’t grown into such different people. Why can’t it just be like when we were young again? Back when we acted like real twins…

Now we hardly understand each other. It’s difficult when your brother lives in a fantasy world, and you have to deal with the reality. The Lightwoods are a huge threat to our kingdom, and it’s about time we finally show them what we’re made of. If he wants to sit in his room reading books, fine: I’ll be the one running things around here.

We’ve got a war to rekindle, before the enemy realizes what we're up to, and our men are ready to fight. Those Lightwoods aren’t going to know what hit them.

—Belle

Baline

Your Highness? I hear after three knocks on my chamber door. It’s a girl’s voice: small and quiet. Probably a maid.

I smile at the thought: they usually don’t ever talk to me about anything. I wonder what this one could possibly want?

My sister thinks I’m an idiot for even paying them any attention, but I recognize something familiar in them: that desperate feeling that you’re trapped by your own obligations— the ones you didn’t choose, but were born with. I know that they have feelings, just like us, and I only wish they were shown more kindness by the others who live in this castle. How do my sister and father not see them as people?

Yes? I reply.

I have a message for you from your sister, the maid says, sounding uncertain.

Come in, I beckon eagerly: there’s no reason to speak through a closed door. These servants always seem so afraid to approach me. I really wish they wouldn't be so skittish.

When the door tentatively opens, I see a girl with what I’d probably call light-brown skin, dark hair, and slightly ragged clothing. She looks shy, as most servants do, and avoids looking me in the eyes. I recognize the dress she holds in her hands as my sister’s, which tells me that she was likely in the middle of cleaning rooms when my sister ordered her to come and speak to me. The girl doesn't come very far into my bedroom, but stands near the doorway in a shy manner.

The Princess…wanted me to make sure that you were getting ready to practice— with the sword, she says, as though too nervous to concentrate on what she’s saying.

Thank you, I tell her, trying to let her know that she doesn’t have to be so afraid of me. Although, I don’t think I’m actually going to do that, I add. I’m no good with a weapon, anyways: I could never kill someone.

Instead of comforting her, this statement seems to make her extremely nervous. She stiffens at the word kill, and seems to be picturing some horrific scene in her head. I try not to laugh at the idea that this girl could possibly find me to be scary.

I’m not exactly my father.

Not that it really matters to you, I add awkwardly. Don’t worry about it: I’ll tell her myself that I’m not doing it.

For a servant, giving my sister bad news can be a terrifying experience. I don’t want her to have to go through that. Plus, I’m sure she was already busy when my sister so carelessly sent her on this pointless errand. It sucks that they just have to make time for every little one of our whims, just because society says so. I don’t think my sister appreciates how obnoxious it would be to have to do all the chores that she herself never has to do. I try to be as considerate as possible. It’s the least I can do for how horribly my father and sister treat them.

The only problem is, they’ve learned to be so afraid of us by this point that I can never make connections with most of them: they just keep their heads down, nod and say yes, Your Majesty whenever I try to talk to them. They keep it very one-sided.

Begging your pardon, Your Highness, she says, still avoiding direct eye-contact. But it doesn’t seem as though your family will be very happy about that.

She looks ready to be scolded, like I’d be angry at her for giving me a warning. If anything, I appreciate her caring enough to do so. Not that I wasn’t already aware of how disappointed my family is in every decision I make, but it was still nice of this girl to try and warn me that I might be getting myself into some kind of trouble. Why in the world would I be angry at her for that? But she looks at me as though ready to be thrown in the dungeons for speaking the thought out loud.

I only smile. I don’t care what they think: I don’t want to be King, anyways. What’s the point in playing their stupid games when I don’t even belong?

She looks incredulous. "You don’t want to— How could you not want to be King? I would give anything if I could— She stops herself: realizing her own outburst. I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I just—"

I smile. Don’t worry about it: it’s fine. I know how you must feel… Shaking my head, I add, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, either.

Then I realize how that could be taken as an insult. I mean, not that…uh…well, you know…

She giggles appreciatively at my attempt to apologize, and I know that I don’t have to finish my sentence: she gets what I mean.

Uh…so, I say after a long, slightly awkward moment. "A-are you…I mean, are you…doing…anything right now, or…?"

Uh, well, she says, looking down at the dress in her hands. "I have to get this washed as soon as possible so that it can dry, and then…there’s all the other rooms that I have to clean, and…all the other clothes I have to wash, and…the chamber pots need to be emptied and cleaned…"

Oh, I say: feeling disappointed. I-I’m sorry. I’ll…let you get back to that, then. I guess. I mean…unless you…need…help…? Or something?

She laughs. "Good heavens, no…!" It’s clear that she finds the idea of me doing the laundry absurd.

Well…I guess I’ll…see you later, then?

She nods, pauses uncertainly, then turns to leave.

Y-you know… I say hurriedly, then feel shy for having spoken. Am I so desperate for company that I’m really saying this? If you…have some free time later…

I have no idea where I’m going with this. I’m a total idiot: she’s a maid. I shouldn’t even be seen speaking to her, let alone…

I’d love to talk, I finish decidedly.

She gives a shy, almost weary smile, then does a small curtsy. As you wish, Your Highness.

And then she slips out the door.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked that of her, I think to myself. I mean, she did sound awful busy, and I don't even know what I want to talk about. I'm just tired of everyone scurrying off like they're afraid of me. I just want someone I can be friends with…

I sigh. What have I gotten myself into?

—Baline

CHAPTER

THREE

Lily

H ello, says Harmony: my little sister, who has a terrible habit of unintentionally sneaking up on me. She's done that ever since we were little, and claims she can’t help it. Well, Walk louder! is all I have to say about that!

She sits down on the bench that I’m currently occupying, though unlike usual, she doesn't seem to be enjoying the flowers that grow in the courtyard: she just looks stressed.

Hi, I say, frowning. What's up?

Oh, she says, letting out a long breath. It's not usually like her to be so unhappy. I'm just a little nervous for the ball.

Why? I ask. "It's my birthday party. I'm the one everyone will be focused on."

Yeah, but there's going to be a lot of people, she says, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear in a shy manner.

Oh, I say as I begin to understand, recalling her rather bizarre ability to sense other people's emotions. She sometimes gets overwhelmed in crowds. Of course, I do too, but that's just because I'm antisocial.

I don't know, though, she adds, trying to cheer up a bit. Sometimes it's exciting. Maybe this will be one of those times, and not one of the bad ones.

How can you like it sometimes and not others? I ask. I wish I had some idea of what this ability of hers feels like, so that I could tell if she's just being a baby about it, or whether I should really pity her.

Well…it sort of depends on the mood of the crowd, I guess, she tells me. If they're really unhappy, or complaining about a lot of things, then it sort of feels drowning and depressing. On the other hand, if they're all really excited, I feel excited too, but then I sometimes get burned out really quickly. Mostly it's the boys, though, that really drain me.

What do you mean? I ask.

"Well, the ones that are really interested, I mean. They can just be