A HAZY SHADE OF WINTER

Chapter Five

Not Your Princess

Five days later, and I hadn't left my room in over three. I spent most of my time lying across my bed lazily, eyes closed as I thought about everything I had ever been told, of everything I had ever been told. I couldn't help but think of what might have happened if I had intervened that night, at the border. Maybe I might've been killed, along with my father. Maybe, I could've stopped whoever killed him, and saved his life. Maybe, I could've stopped my uncle's jealous tirade, before it even began.

There was no use thinking of that now, I realized, after many days locked away in my room. I could never go back to that night and I could never change the past, no matter how much I wanted to.

I could still remember the look on my father's face, and I had thought often of his smile. He would've done anything to protect me, as my mother would've. I could still remember the song he would hum to me every night before bedtime, when he and my mother would tuck me into bed. I could still remember the way his mouth would turn up when I did something that amused him, which was often, much to my mother's chagrin. I could still remember each little laugh lines by his eyes when he smiled, filled with joy and happiness.

I had all of these wonderful memories of the way life had been, in Eidraes, and everything had gone to horrible wrong. Life had been like a dream for me back then, when I had been shielded the way I had been, from everything that was wrong with my family and with my kingdom.

I had been caught in some kind of dream in these last few years and learning everything had gone to shit had been a bit of a nasty shock. I was still grappling with the consequences of my choice to run that night, to abandon my kingdom and my destiny, all because of my cowardice.

I stood from where I lay on my bed, planting my feet on the ground uneasily. I took a shaking hand to my hair, brushing a few loose strands of hair from my face, swallowing the lump in my throat as I moved around my small room, shedding clothing as I did so, until I wore only my fitted trousers and a thin, loose sleeveless tunic.

The clothing stuck to every inch of my skin, thanks to the sweat that coated my body, thanks to the intense temperature within my bedroom. I paced around my room, like I did every day, clenching my tunic hem in hand tightly. I stopped suddenly when I heard the familiar shouts from my friends, just outside of my bedroom door.

"Please, just allow us to see her, to speak with her," I could hear Phillip make the please he had made for the last five days. I nearly broke down all over again, at the sound of his voice.

"She's doesn't want to see you," Was simply all my caregiver said, as she ushered them from our hut, like she always did. I hesitated just in front of my door for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing deeply, my legs knocking together nervously.

It was true, but it also wasn't. I didn't want to see them, because I didn't want them to see me like this, in his state of unease and distress. I had never felt so weak and vulnerable in my entire life. I sat back down on the edge of my bed, clasping my hands together, fingers twitching erratically.

"Thank you," I murmured through the door, leaning against it as I spoke, and I heard feet shuffling closer to my door.

"You're welcome. I'm here if you need someone to talk to," Was all I heard before she shuffled away again, leaving me alone once again. I sunk back down onto my bed, laying my head atop the pillow and pulling the tattered and worn covers of my bed closer to my body. I didn't want to talk to anyone, not this time. This wasn't something the others would understand, no one would ever understand what it was like.

A part of me wanted to go back home, honestly. I did have a reason, other than my throne, to go back to Eidraes. I had my mother, married to her husband's murderer, all alone for the last five years, wondering if she was right to believe I hadn't killed my father that night. She had been the last person I talked to in the palace, after all, and the last good memory I had connected to that god forsaken gilded prison. The one thing I had left to go home to was her and her determination that I was innocent, that her daughter was going to be alright.

A part of me also wanted to stay here, to stay safe in Ostax. I had built a life here, in this small village. I was happy here, with my friends, with Leo and Phillip. I was gone from Eidraes, which was exactly what my uncle seemed to want, and he had the throne, while I was across the border, seen as only a traitor to Eidraes.

I took another deep breath, opening my eyes, nearly blinded by the light. My heart was racing as I lay there, clutching the sheets tightly. I needed to rest, I decided a moment later, reaching over to close the torn curtains that covered my lone window. I pulled the bedsheets back over my body, closing my eyes once more, willing a tumultuous sleep to come.

I stood, dressed in a similar gown to the one I had arrived in Ostax wearing. The edges of the bottom of the layered skirts were coated in mud and in a dark, thick red substance. My hands were coated in the same sticky substance. I walked, legs shaky, through the Eidraen palace gardens and into the palace itself. It looked the same, in a way, but different as well. It was darker in tone, the colors having changed since the last time I had been here, in person.

Everything seemed so much bigger, but I had been a child then, of course. I walked the halls of my childhood home, tracking dirt all through the palace, across the marble set floors. I found my way through the palace hallways, finding myself in the throne room, the two thrones set before me, one solid gold, the other sparkling silver.

My mother, as always, sat on one throne, looking regal and posed, every inch a Queen. My uncle, the usurper himself, sat on the other, clutching the sides of my father's throne. I approached him cautiously, but, it was as if he, nor my mother even saw me. It was like I wasn't even there, like I didn't exist. He even wore my father's crown and I watched as my mother eyed him, a hate I had never seen before, laced in her gaze as she observed him.

"She's alive, if that's any comfort to you. Your treacherous, treasonous daughter is alive, after all," My uncle spoke and I could tell each word pained him, by the harsh, biting tone he used.

"I always knew she lived, you better than anyone knows that. She is her father's daughter, after all. Saying that, you'd best prepare. She's coming for you now, thanks to the Prince of hers. He and I, we always believed in her, and now, that belief will get you killed. I'd say good luck, but we both know I won't really mean it," My mother stood from her perch, smiling to herself as she descended the steps that led to the two thrones. My uncle frowned, watching her leave the throne room, before he gestured for a guard, one of my father's most loyal Kings Guard, with a flick of his hand and a devilish grin.

The guard stepped up, hand on the hilt of his blade as he knelt before his King.

"Gather as many men as you can spare and hunt my niece and her watch dog down. I'd prefer her alive, but kill her, if you must. Go, now!" He barked his orders harshly, watching as the guard stalked away, without another word.

I couldn't help but stare at him, at my uncle, watching as he leaned back on my father's throne. He looked so oddly at ease on that throne, content even, if I had to name the emotion. It bothered me, just as much as I thought it would.

Suddenly, he looked up, staring right at where I was standing. I knew he couldn't see me, that I wasn't truly there, but it still sent a shiver up and down my spine, unsettling me to my very core. He narrowed his eyes as I stumbled backwards in place, against the marble flooring.

Without even thinking about it, I ran from the throne room, unable to even handle being in the same room as him, not for one more second.