Waiting For Spring
Chapter 4

My body felt raw, but for once in my life, I also felt clean. I never thought there would be a day that I no longer smelt like the piles of rubbish I used to sleep among.

It took two batches of bathwater to remove all the grime from my skin. Marla tried to insist on a third, but she caught my humiliated expression and must have decided to take pity on me. She rubbed the water from my skin with vigour until I glowed red. Once she deemed me dry, she roughly wrapped my body in a silken robe, and I barely had time to savour the sensation before she was ushering me towards a table with a looking glass set into it.

It had been some time since I had seen my reflection and when I looked up, I was more than shocked by what I saw.

Slowly, I raised my hand to my face just to make sure the girl staring back was indeed me. Almost immediately my hand was slapped away by an impatient Marla. She tittered at me, annoyed by the disruption to her preparations and proceeded to drag a brush through my knotted hair. I fought the urge to cry out as she all but tortured my now golden hair.

Trying to distract myself, I focused instead on my reflection. My golden hair, I had just assumed was a dirty brown that had built up over the years. My skin was paler than I had thought, dotted with small brown specks where the Citra sun had kissed it. They were scattered across my cheeks just below wide, bright green eyes. Even I couldn’t deny they were enchanting.

Simon used to say they were almost as vibrant as the trees in the forests just outside Huen. He believed it was the reason I would spend hours high among the treetops when I was younger. My ability to climb had landed me the lookout role in our little gang. That and Simon tried to keep me as far away from the action as possible. He always grew anxious when there were palace guards nearby, constantly trying to keep me hidden from their view.

I was snapped from my reverie when Marla tugged harshly on my hair, weaving it into an intricate braid. She then twisted wildflowers through until my hair looked like an explosion of colour.

When she was finished, I turned to thank her, but she had already darted across the room opening the door and ushering the three dressmakers inside. Before she quickly returned to my side.

“On your feet Highness,” she ordered, gripping my arm and pulling me up from the comfortable stool and leading me to the centre of the room. My bare feet sunk into the soft rug. Suddenly, the robe was taken from my body a sound of protest escaping me when I realised all I was left in was a thin slip of a dress. I looked to Marla in protest, but she gave me a harsh glare before the dressmakers started measuring every inch of me.

Again I felt the humiliation flood my body as they scrutinised every part of me. The one named Zella tutted at my boney shoulders. Shaking her head in disapproval at my chest and frowning at my height. I hated the calculating look in her eyes as she assessed everything about my appearance and it appeared I had come up short of her expectations.

When they were through measuring and making me feel as small as a stone in their shoe, they stepped back and muttered, their heads leant close together.

They seemed to come to an agreement before they returned their attention to me. Instantly, I felt my skin crawl under their gazes. The plump man stepped up to me with his rolls of fabric nodding at me before placing them over my shoulder and looking back at Zella for approval.

They discussed which colour would suit me best, swapping and changing them too rapidly for me to keep track. I tried to block them out for the most part until I noticed the pale pink roll of fabric.

“No,” I said firmly. Zella frowned at my outburst, the stumpy man eyeing me warily, sill holding the offending roll of cloth.

“Sorry, Highness?” Zella asked, confusion lighting her tone.

“I do not want to wear pink,” I spoke, crinkling my nose in disgust.

“In my opinion highness, as the royal dressmaker,” she answered haughtily. ’I believe this colour will suit you best, especially with your hair and complexion.”

“I refuse to wear it,” I answered defiantly, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

“Pardon my frankness your Highness, but I am tailor to the king himself. I dress the most eligible courtiers in his court, and I believe this will be the best colour for you.”

“No,” I answered simply, noticing Marla shake her head disapprovingly from where she was stood beside the dressing table. I felt Zella’s eyes burning into mine, but I refused to relent. I refused to lose myself completely. I refused to be the King’s doll.

“Do you have all the measurements you require?” Marla asked, cutting through the tension with her firm voice.

“I believe we have what we need,” Zella answered with gritted teeth, her eyes still boring into mine.

“I trust you will be able to create a tasteful wardrobe for the young princess per the king’s request.”

“Of course, the King will be very pleased with what we will create,” Zella answered poignantly, reminding me that it wasn’t my orders she needed to submit to. I would wear whatever the King wanted me to wear.

“Good, please return with a dress for the Princess to wear in the meantime, then you are dismissed to return to your regular duties,” Marla instructed, dismissing the dressmakers, the two men eager to escape the stifling room. Zella gave me one more meaningful look before she too left the room.

“Come Highness,” Marla ordered after a moment of silence and gestured to the dressing table again. Reluctantly, I shuffled my feet across the floor until I resumed my seat at the dressing table.

Without another word, she started dusting my face with powders. I watched with fascination as my face began to transform under Marla’s artful fingers. She dusted my cheeks with a powder that tinted them pink giving them a rosy look before she smudged something dark around my eyes making them seem even brighter than they were before.

Just as she was finishing the door to the room opened again, and Zella strode in with a wicked grin on her face. Whereas my own had transformed into a scowl, eyeing the offending dress she held in her hands.

“Highness,” she sneered, placing the dress on one of the long red chairs.

Thank you, Zella,′ Marla dismissed. Zella shot me one more triumphant look before exiting the room. My body was simmering with anger, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t need any of Marla’s pink power to colour my cheeks if the rest of the night played out the same way.

“Do not scowl highness,” Marla warned, firmly turning my head back to her before she resumed her work.

“She did that on purpose,” I grumbled, clenching my hands tightly by my sides. I could still see the pink dress from the corner of my eye only further enraging me.

“You’ll soon learn how this world works Highness. The King’s court can be a treacherous place for those who did not grow up knowing the rules that govern it.”

“I do not wish to be inside his court,” I replied, turning from her when she was finally finished painting my face. She made a disapproving sound before moving across the room again.

I heard the ruffles of the dress and couldn’t quell the frustration growing inside of me. I felt as if I didn’t have the words to express not only my objections to the dress but this world I had suddenly found myself in. I didn’t know the rules, meaning I didn’t know how to manipulate them or how to fit within them. I had never fit within any rules on the street, but I had always known my place, and suddenly everything in life had become unclear.

“Come, your highness,” Marla prompted impatiently, but I refused to look at her. “You are not doing yourself any good by refusing the King’s wishes,” she chastised, and I found myself releasing an angry sigh before reluctantly pushing myself to my feet.

Sensing her opportunity, Marla quickly stuffed me in the dress before I could protest further. I felt her roughly pull the dress tight and swiftly buttoned all the buttons before tying a wide sash around my middle.

It felt heavy on my body. The weight of the jewels which embellished it sending a sickly feeling through my body. Oh, if the boys could but see me now. The dress alone could keep us all fed for several months, maybe even allow us to stay somewhere warm for the winter. That is if someone would allow us to stay. Sometimes it takes more than gold to garner respect or for others to treat you as they would treat any other townsperson.

Yet, I found myself draped in this gown all for the desires of a conceited King who demanded the world should be his way, without thinking of how his actions and wants affected others.

“You’re scowling again, Highness,” Marla scolded, and I only felt my frown deepen further.

“What are those?” I demanded incredulously, eying the pair of shoes that Marla had placed in front of me. They were silver with glass shards or some form of reflective surface embedded in them. They seemed to glow in the afternoon sunlight.

“They are shoes, milady,” she answered, fussing with my hair again before trying to straighten out non-existent creases in my dress.

“I can’t wear those.”

“It is expected of your Highness,” she replied simply, and I felt my lip curl in disgust.

“How do you suppose I walk in those?” I demanded, taking a step away from them. “Could I maybe have a flatter pair of shoes?”

“No Highness,” she denied me flatly as I continue to glare at the shoes that would surely cause me nothing but trouble. Rarely in my life had my feet been clad in anything other than grime or sometimes if I were lucky a thin cloth to keep the winter chill out. How was I expected, now, to wear shoes that might place me several inches off the ground?

My apprehension was no deterrent for Marla as she bent down and stuffed my reluctant feet in the stiff shoes. My toes tucked in tightly only further hindering my ability to balance. There was no stopping the scowl that spread across my face as Marla stepped back to assess her work.

A small nod suggested she was satisfied with what she was able to achieve with such a reluctant canvas. Then she turned from me back to the dressing table picking something up before turning to face me again.

In her hand, she now held an elaborate necklace as dazzling as the silver shoes, and instinctively I clutched my silver locket. It had been hanging around my neck ever since I could remember. The words Our Rose were engraved on the back. I always wondered where it had come from and when I asked Simon he said I had been wearing it the night he found me. There were two portraits inside, one of a man and one of a woman.

The man seemed stern, with dark brown eyes and dark hair whereas the woman seemed to be his polar opposite with light hair and bright green eyes just like mine. Where the man was dark and brooding, the woman was bright and exploding with happiness. Every time I looked at her, I couldn’t help but replace myself smiling as if her happiness were contagious and I had no choice but to be infected by it.

When I was lonely, I would imagine that they were my parents. I would daydream of our lives together and wanted nothing more than to feel their love. There was nothing in this life that I ever held dear, but I had sworn I would never part with my locket. Even when I was on the streets tired, hungry and cold I refused to sell it to a merchant. It was worth more than gold.

“Highness?” Marla prompted, and I couldn’t help but take another step away from her.

“I would like to wear my locket,” I answered firmly.

“It wouldn’t be right milady,” she scolded, taking another step towards me, dangling the piece of jewellery threateningly.

“I will not wear anything else,” I answered, clutching my locket tighter feeling a panicked sensation run up my spine until it reached every corner of my body. I refused to give up another part of myself. The last part of myself.

I could feel Marla watching me closely before a strange emotion flash through her eyes, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

“As you wish Highness,” she finally conceded setting the necklace down before turning back to me.

Then, without another word she ushered me from the room, my dress swishing loudly in the silence. I didn’t even have a chance to express my gratitude before I was standing before a slouching captain.

He was slumped in one of the elegant chairs before he quickly stood to attention realising we had returned. I watched as his eyes grew wide, before running over every inch of me. I felt my eyes shift to the floor self-consciously.

“You...you look beautiful your Highness,” he breathed, slowly walking towards me. Still, I refused to raise my eyes, uncomfortable with the attention. It was a sensation I had never felt before in my life. So much so, that I couldn’t even identify it. I felt my cheeks start to burn and my stomach flutter before I heard his feet stop in front of me.

“Shall we?” He spoke softly, and from the corner of my eye, I saw him extend his arm for me to take. I hesitated for a moment my body humming with anxiety. Now I had the time to think about what was about to happen my body seemed to react with a panicked flurry of emotions. Taking his arm felt like the beginning of something. I felt that if I were to take his arm, I would be accepting my fate to be the King’s. I would accept my fate to be trapped for the rest of my life.

“Highness?” He prompted again, and I heard Marla let out a frustrated click of her tongue at my disobedience, my inability to accept the fate another had mapped out for me.

“Rosie,” the captain sighed, ducking down, so I had no choice but to look into his cerulean blue eyes. “It’s only dinner.”

“Will you be there?” I asked, tugging lightly at the silver chain around my neck. His eyes darted to Marla before he answered and I wondered what had been exchanged between the two.

“Of course,” he nodded, taking my hand and tucking my arm under his. My body was tense and feeling the captain shift towards the door only furthered my anxiety.

Reluctantly, I felt myself move with the captain towards the doors. Tightness gripped my chest, my breaths becoming laboured as I glanced back at Marla. She had an unreadable expression on her face as the captain all but dragged me from the room.

When the doors opened, my eyes snapped forward to replace the same guards on either side of the door who had led me up. Glancing at them both, in my panic I noted that the one named Mantai had a guilty look on his face as they both inclined their heads when we passed. I frowned at their actions but was quickly pulled out of my curious thoughts when we started to move down the corridor. The guards followed closely behind us, their footsteps echoing loudly off the walls and filling the stifling silence.

When the captain led me down the corridor filled with windows, I felt my feet begin to slow, pulling on his arm to slow his pace.

I stared at the view in awe. In every direction, as far as the eye could see there were magnificent gardens bursting with the traditionally vibrant Citra flowers. Reds, greens, blues and violets splashed across the landscape, bleeding into one another as the dying afternoon sun cast shadows over the garden.

Among the trees and flowers, ladies strolled in colourful dresses in groups of twos and threes. I couldn’t help the stab of sadness that shot through me as I watched them walking through the gardens. They seemed to be so light and carefree. Was this what my life was meant to be? If I were to believe what the king had told me, then this should have been my past, and would more than likely be my future, and I wasn’t sure which thought made me feel more unlucky.

While I was lost in thought, we had passed through the corridor, and I was shocked back to the present when the darkness and cool of the castle’s stone hallways pressed down on me.

Before I was ready, we came to a stop, and I felt my body go numb. Standing before two heavy wooden doors, there were guards on either side watching us closely. I felt my blood slow before my heart jumped into action, thumping wildly in my chest.

The two guards seem to watch me curiously as if they were uncertain how to take me, how to treat me.

Casting a nervous glance down the corridor, I tried to judge the distance as I rubbed absently at my bare arms. There were five of them and one of me, not to mention their knowledge of the castle that far outweighed my own, which was non-existent. I thought maybe if I could replace another of their secret passages I could hide or maybe even scout an escape that way, but I wasn’t certain if I could replace one in time. Any option I considered always ended the same. With me exactly where I was right now, trapped.

“Highness,” the captain prompted warningly, his arm tightening in mine. Slowly, I moved my eyes back to his, and from his expression, I could tell he knew my thoughts.

“The king is waiting.” I eyed him defiantly, but it didn’t stop the guards from opening the doors when the captain nodded in their direction.

They opened slowly as if they too could sense my trepidation, revealing a room more extravagant than the last. Troy quickly led me inside, as if he were afraid if he didn’t I would try and escape. The door closed behind me with finality as my stomach began to churn anxiously.

The enormity of the room gave me goosebumps. I felt as small as a mouse in a sprawling field. The room was lined with rows and rows of leather-bound books seeming to encase a magnificent arched window with a small bench like seat beneath it. I caught glimpses of the gardens through the window panes.

Feeling the captain lead me further inside, I noticed a soft rug beneath our feet, woven with intricate details that would take hours to appreciate, let alone create. Opulent chairs and lounges sat upon the rugs with several candles burning warmly. Their light reaching the corners of the room the large fireplace failed to light.

As I was taking the room in, another door leading from the room opened causing me to jump in alarm. I gripped the captain’s arm tightly, anxious for the King’s arrival. Without even glancing at the new arrival I knew who it was, his presence quickly strangling the once easy air in the room.

Without realising, my body began to tremble. I only knew of one type of man, and I was certain that even if he was the King, it wouldn’t make him any different from all the others I had encountered.

“Your majesty,” the captain murmured beside me, bowing his head respectfully to his king. In contrast, I remained frozen as I clenched the captain’s arm more tightly. I could sense the captain’s eyes on me as he tried to pry his arms from my fingertips.

The king’s feet began to move across the floor, and my eyes involuntarily flicked in his direction. Instantly, my eyes clashed with his intense brown one. His eyes were watching with an intensity that made me feel like a piece of property he was evaluating. Never did I see emotion flash through his eyes, never acknowledging how dramatically my appearance had changed. Did he not like what he saw?

I kept my eyes locked on his as he moved effortlessly across the room. He crossed in front of the captain before coming to a stop in front of me. I was alarmed to replace his movements were graceful and fluid despite his strong build and tall frame. He easily stood two heads above me and even a few inches above his captain. There was very little doubt in my mind that in any battle the King engaged he would arise the victor.

The silence ate away at me, fraying my nerves and rattling my mind. Until finally, he decided to break the silence only causing my limbs to clench even tighter.

“Thank you, Troy,” he nodded at the captain. “You may leave us now.” The King’s eyes quickly return to me and my skin prickled under his piercing gaze. I sensed the captain’s hesitation, but after several long heartbeats, he started to remove my brittle fingers from his skin. My hold had left red handprints on his skin, but my focus was on his footsteps as he started to slowly exit.

I watched him in horror, silently pleading with him to return but he refused to disobey his King’s orders.

Again the doors fell shut, taking the captain with them and leaving me alone with the king. I refused to remove my eyes from the doors, glaring at them until my vision began to swim with their image. My hands clenched tightly at my sides as I tried to tame my trembling body. The silence now consuming the room was loud and insistent in my ears.

“Princess,” he began, and my body jolted. “Will you join me?” Slowly, I turned back to face him, but with my escort gone, I wobbled unsteadily in my shoes. I felt my normally steady balance fail me and the world started to move at an alarming rate.

Before I knew it, I had hit something hard, but I was puzzled to replace a comforting warmth behind it. Startled, I tried to push away only to feel strong arms around my torso holding me in place.

I was hit with the smell of leather and a deeply masculine scent sending heat to my cheeks. A strange sensation passed through me, and for a moment I almost thought I felt safe. I couldn’t feel that in his arms, not now and not in the future.

Hastily, I stepped out of his hold, ducking my head from his sight to hide my heated face. Anxiously, I wrung my hands in front of me, not daring to make eye contact with him.

“Princess,” he prompted again, and I could almost sense amusement in his tone. “After you,” he instructed motioning for me to go through the open door he had entered from. I noticed his extended, but I moved swiftly across the room trying to ignore the confusing beat of my heart.

I heard a huff of breath behind me, but I didn’t look back to see how my act of defiance had angered him. I hadn’t asked him to forget everything he had ever known and to instead, assume a new life.

Once I walked over the room’s threshold, I realised I had entered an informal dining room. A large wooden table consumed the space inside the room with two ornate chairs at either end. There were swords and shields mounted above the fireplace. Their silver was reflecting the light of the warm fire place below. It blazed brightly from opposite the table sending out a warming glow throughout the room.

I gasped when the smell finally hit me. The table was laden down with mountains of food causing my mouth to water in anticipation. There was every kind of food you could imagine and some I never knew existed. I wanted to try it all. I wanted to take it to the boys from the streets if only to see the joy on their faces at the prospect of finally being full for once in their lives.

I was so absorbed in the food that I hadn’t realised the King had already moved to my side. My muscles tensed when I felt his touch at my elbow forcing my eyes to his. I watched him in alarm and from the flicker of an expression on his face I was certain he had felt it as well. However, it barely lasted longer than a breath before his emotionless face returned and he was leading me to one of the tall-backed, dark wood chairs.

He pulled the chair out and gestured for me to sit. I eyed him suspiciously before conceding to take the chair he offered. Once I was seated, he moved around the table to his own. I eyed him warily, watching his ever move ignoring the spread between us.

“Please princess, do not wait for my permission. You look as if you could waste away to nothing before my very eyes.” I scowled at his comment, all too aware that it was the only one he had made about my appearance since I had arrived.

Noticing my hesitance, he gestured for me to begin and grudgingly I reached across the table and served myself some of the mouthwatering food. Without looking at the king again, I lifted an orange vegetable to my mouth but froze when I heard the king clear his throat.

Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his, a disapproving look filling them as they watched me. Glancing at his hands, I saw him holding a knife and fork, and I cringed realising how uncivilised I looked. No matter how they dressed me I was still that same girl from the streets of Huen.

“Oh,” I muttered, lowering my hand as embarrassment flushed my cheeks.

“I don’t suppose you have much use for cutlery,” he mused, placing a piece of meat delicately between his teeth. I glanced down at my own plate and at the knives and forks beside it wondering how I was to use any of them. “You never knew what to do when you were young either,” he chuckled, almost as if he were having his own private conversation. Growing frustrated, I grabbed a knife and fork messing up the rest so no one could tell if I had used the wrong ones.

“Have you spent a lot of time without a home Arlarose?” He spoke, startling me from the silence. I nodded my head awkwardly, my body stiff under his intense gaze.

A loud sound rang out throughout the room as I lost grip of my fork and it clattered against my plate. I cringed at the sound, quickly making to pick it back up. I could hear the King’s tongue click disapprovingly and my face flamed again.

“Sorry,” I muttered, glaring down at my plate, too embarrassed to eat the food I had placed on it.

“You will require some...refinement before anything official is announced,” he mused as if regarding a piece of property. I suddenly felt like one of the merchant’s wares in the marketplace, exposed for all to criticise.

“I’ve never done this before,” I shot back, my anger searing hot behind my eyes, burning away any tears of embarrassment. ‘You were the one who ordered me to be your lost princess.’

“You are my princess,” he answered in a bored tone. “I was just unprepared to replace you with so little...skills and sophistication.”

“I have gotten by my entire life as I am,” I answered, my hands clenching the cutlery tightly.

“You will need to be taught the rules of court for a start,” he began as if I hadn’t even spoken. Almost as if I weren’t even in the room and I could feel fire start to rush through my limbs. “You will also need to be educated. Can you even read?′

’Is this how you treat every dinner guest?” I spat, my chair scraping across the floor as I pushed to my feet. “No wonder you are yet to replace a wife. No one would be mad enough to put up with someone like you.”

“I am a King,” he shot back, fury filling his tone. “I could have any maiden in my court, in my kingdom.”

“Good,” my voice low and my eyes boring into his. “Why don’t you go replace one of them?”

“Watch you tongue princess, I am still your King, and you will respect my title.” His tone was menacing as he remained in his chair, his body seeming to hum with his own anger as mine visibly trembled.

“So, as your wife, I am expected to bow to your every wish? I am to obey your every command and have no opinions or thoughts of my own?” I remarked evenly, my heart pounding a rhythmic pace.

“Of course,” he affirmed without hesitation.

“Wrong.”

“Princess-”

“My name is Rosie,” I shouted, anger fuelling my actions as I spun from the table and stormed towards the door.

“You will obey princess,” he roared. “Now stop this childish behaviour and return to this table immediately.”

“Not in this lifetime,” I grumbled, throwing the door open without a backwards glance. The door slammed loudly behind me as I heard him let out a frustrated snarl. Within seconds his heavy footsteps were moving swiftly across the floor. As they grew nearer, I finally gathered my senses and ran for the two solid doors leading to the hallway.

The two guards who had allowed me entry were startled by my sudden appearance but before they could regain their composure, I darted passed them. My shoes clicked loudly as I raced down the hallway, not daring to look back. As I rounded a corner, I heard the king finally come charging out of his rooms his voice surely reaching all the rooms in the castle.

“Seize her!” He ordered, but I was already out of sight racing through the castle corridors with one goal in my mind. Escape.