The Raven

Ten

After being lectured by his mother for hours about proper princely etiquette, duties, and dos and do-nots, Henry is finally released back to his room. He is only slightly worse for wear, having mentally blocked out most of his mother's incessant complaining; he has made it a habit after all these years. His steps are slow; while Henry is anxious to be away from his mother's overbearing and insanely annoying style of parenting, he is in no hurry to return to his pacing. He lags through the hallways, his feet dragging slightly across the polished floor as he loses himself to daydreams of what could possibly happen when he finally enters that room at the top of the tower. Henry's heart thrums in anticipation, sending a thrill down his spine that then ebbs its way through his entire body; if he is honest, he has never felt so excited in his lifetime.

Upon finally reaching his bedroom door, a dreamy smile is plastered to his face, unbeknownst to Henry. However, even if he was aware of the upward curl of his lips, he would do naught to stop it; he immensely adores the blissful feeling flowing so freely through him at this moment. With a breathy sigh, he reaches for the doorknob, wholly prepared to spend the rest of the day plotting his next attempt at entering the forbidden West Wing. Before he can open his door, however, a voice speaks up from behind him.

"Excuse me, Your Highness?" the quiet voice says, stealing the prince's attention from his previous thoughts.

Turning to find the source of the sound, Henry's eyes land on the maid from earlier. With a soft smile, he kindly asks, "Can I help you?" His curiosity is piqued, yet at the same time, there is a shred of apprehension blossoming in his chest; Henry immediately thinks that his mother has once again sent the girl to retrieve him. He had thought they were finished with the reprimanding speeches for the day.

The maid simply shakes her head, cautiously checking both ways down the corridor before stepping closer to the prince. She replies in a hushed tone, "I believe it is I that can help you."

"Well, that certainly sounds ominous," Henry responds, his brows furrowing in combined confusion and unease.

Leaning in to ensure that her words are heard only by Prince Henry, the maid lowers her voice to a whisper and says, "I can help you find the answers you are looking for."

Henry narrows his eyes at the maid, unsure whether or not to believe her; this conversation, this entire situation, seems excessively suspicious. How can she be so sure of what answers he is seeking? Henry realizes it is likely the entirety of the castle staff has heard of his endeavor into the West Wing by now but is it not a bit presumptuous to assume she knows the reasons behind his actions? She could not possibly understand his insatiable desire to meet those glowing rubies. Attempting to sound as polite as possible with his rising skepticism, Henry asks, "What do you mean?"

The maid makes eye contact with the prince, holding his gaze firmly to ensure he not only hears but thoroughly understands her next words. "I can help you get into the tower of the West Wing," she replies quietly, a small smile upturning her lips as she watches Prince Henry's eyes light up. "There, you will find all of the answers to your questions."

"Tell me everything," says Henry, a new wave of excitement crashing within him. He gestures with his head toward his bedroom door. He suddenly feels stupid for doubting her; she obviously knows more than she lets on. The maid obediently follows him into his room, securing the door behind them.

"I know that they have doubled the guards in that area of the palace due to someone being caught snooping around," the maid says, a teasing lilt to her voice that causes Henry's cheeks to tint pink. "However, I know how to avoid them," she continues, hoping the sincerity in her tone is enough to reassure him. "Do you know what is in the tower?"

Henry lets his eyes fall closed and shakes his head, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he does so. He responds, "I do not." Hopefully, he peers into the maid's eyes and asks, "Do you?"

She takes a deep breath and answers, "Eighteen years ago, your father allied himself with a powerful witch. Rumor has it that the witch prophesized that a war was on the horizon, and while she would willingly serve on your father's side, her own magic could never be strong enough to win the battle. It has been said that your father and the witch have combined forces and cultivated a 'weapon,' which they keep up in that tower room."

"A weapon?" Henry questions, wholly intrigued by the story. "One with magic more powerful than a witch?"

Nodding, the maid continues, "Yes. You see, when they became allies, your father allowed the witch to move into the West Wing of the castle. She is one of several secrets that place holds; she still lives there now, after all these years. The witch used most of her magic to create their weapon and is now left with extremely limited powers. This strong and magic-wielding weapon is called 'the raven.' After raising her creation for eighteen years, now all that is left is to perfect its magical skills so they will be unbeatable when the war comes."

Carding a hand through his blond hair, Henry ponders aloud, "So, this 'raven' is being held within the tower? The dark room at the very top that is nearly impossible to see within through the window?" His cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment at his own overshare; he had not intended to tell the girl how much he knows nor how badly he wishes to lay his eyes upon whatever is in that specific location.

"Yes," she affirms with a nod. There is a sparkle in her eyes as she adds, "And I believe that once you see the raven for yourself, you will get all of the other answers you are looking for, as well."

Other answers? While Henry is not entirely sure what she is talking about, he supposes there is only one way to find out. He listens carefully as the maid explains how to get around the now increased security and enter the West Wing unnoticed, detailing the best times to set his plan into motion. The more information the maid reveals, the more elated the prince becomes, his heart one step closer to the possessor of those crimson-colored eyes.