Will to Live

Lavendar Heather

A garden is the most beautiful place to read. The smell of the flowers, the wild vines allowed to grow over the walls, the dew that wets your feet, and the excited singing of birds all make it most beautiful in the early morning. This particular garden had a charming view of a large castle. It seemed to smile down at the flowers below that were just beginning to wake. They raised their heads and gazed admiringly at the biggest and brightest flower there: a young girl just beginning to mature. There was a natural smile to her face that spoke of a happy nature. Her cheeks and her nose were rosy red from the brisk morning air. She was sitting among the flowers reading a book. Now and then, she smiled at the words on the page. Often, she looked away from the book and bestowed an adoring smile on the flowers around her. She was, like the garden, a perfect picture of innocence and unconscious beauty.

The castle, tall and regal, gazed down benevolently at the little picture below. This was a picturesque little scene it was able to see every morning. All was quiet but the birds. They were singing their merry little hearts out in an effort to outdo each other in praising their Maker.

And suddenly, the perfect peace there was destroyed by the measured tread of a soldier. The click of metal against stone made the girl raise her head like a doe disturbed by the passing of a farmer. She, like the doe, would have disappeared into the dense foliage about her but the soldier's strident voice arrested her.

"Fraulein Adelaide, your father wants you in the throne room."

All seemed to fade. There was only a small sixteen year old girl burdened with a title she detested and a soldier with an impassive and unfriendly face.

"Of course." She closed the book and slipped it into her pocket. She tucked a stray brown hair back into her hair net. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing, Fraulein."

"Strange that he would call me to the throne room. We always speak in the library. And were none of his own soldiers available to summon me?"

The soldier hesitated. "Yes, but he asked me personally."

"Why? You are one of Herzog Reikhoff's men. Not one of his guards."

"I know nothing more than you do, Fraulein."

Adelaide was silent. She allowed the soldier to open the door for her into the long hallway and moved rapidly to the throne room. The soldier followed just behind her. He strode purposefully, never pausing or slowing. Adelaide moved faster to keep ahead of him. She disliked feeling rushed but she was too polite to ask him to slow down. The gray walls watched curiously. Adelaide's brows were furrowed in thought. She grabbed the edge of her blue sleeve and began to twist it. The throne room door was open. She stepped inside. She curtsied with her eyes to the floor, as she had been taught.

"And here is the daughter."

The voice was not her father's. Adelaide looked up in surprise. No one was allowed to speak before him. In her father's place sat Herzog Reikhoff. He looked her up and down. His eyes were almost approving and he struggled to keep his face stern. It was unnatural for him. He was a rosy-cheeked boy who hardly ever stopped smiling. "In the garden, I presume."

"Yes. Where is my vater?" Her gaze never left his face. Her determined eyes held his like a cat's holds the eyes of a mouse.

"He is-detained." He flicked his hand toward her left. Her eyes darted that direction. Instinctively, she stepped back. Her wide eyes were frightened.

Her father stood not far away, surrounded by the Herzog's men. He stood proud and strong. His large, strong arms, however, were pinioned behind his back. There'd been a struggle. His black hair, usually tied back, hung in his face and there was already a large bruise on his cheek. His left eye was swollen.

Adelaide stood much like a frightened deer: quivering, mute, and confused. She seemed ready to run quickly away. She glanced behind. There were soldiers behind her. She had no escape.