I roam across the endless hallways under the protection of crafted ceilings with notable devotion and colossal pillars insuring them, neatly sculpted of a polished marble. Some were gifted with exquisite stained glasses of rich colors glinting on the mosaic tiles or the pattern floor with the radiant beams piercing through them, granting so the authenticity of each and every one of the passages that establishes connection between the hundreds of rooms placed on the Aurelian royal residence.
The pointed nib writes down in thin stokes the beginning of a melody onto the page of a suede cover journal resting on the palm of my hand. "What is it that rhymes with meadows?" I mumble to myself. My eyes wander around, with the quest to find the answer to my own question when something else beckons for their attention.
Stopping at the sight of a painting framed opulently on the crimson wall, I scope the substantial piece of art scrutinizingly. The painting portrayed the stolid countenance of a bearded man disposing of the imperial royal attire on its full splendor. The myriad badges, medals and insignias, as well as the sash crossing his chest from the right shoulder to his left hip - and disappearing at the bottom of the canvas - bear witness to the honor and bravery of what in times was a great ruler. As to glorify the title and the duty he held toward his People, a majestic crown shimmered relentlessly above his head.
Although he might appear condescending as a proper member of royalty should, for those who overlooked with certain disregard, there was undoubtedly something benevolent mirrored in the sky blue iris of his eyes beyond the imperious portrayal of the monarch.
Ever since I unearth the endeavors and deeds of my Grandfather, all the slight memories I had of him held an immeasurable value, even greater than before. Because now I understood what a true ruler faces upon his reign and how a leader is expected to act through difficult times.
The shafts of noon blaze on the passage's windows as the portrait is flooded by the flaming light of daytime. The frame of gold would stand out as their intensity grows and the regal posture of the once King appeared even more grandiose before my eyes. But something else stands out on the painting above his right shoulder, something that I could swear it was not there before.
A stain - I thought. But inspecting closely the defined lines of its form, it was least likely to be a stain. It resembled now a shadow. Perhaps of something that got stuck behind the painting thorough all these years that no one ever noticed.
However, when the light shrinks after a brief moment of vigorous luminescence, the supposed shadow fades from the painting as well.
In hopes that I was not hallucinating, I reach for the framed canvas, as cautiously as my unsubtle curiosity granted me to, and peek the back of the grand piece of art.
There was nothing.
I stand clueless, deciding to let go of it when a blare sounds across the hall that instantly causes my heart to drop from my chest. At my feet was the portrait, facing the glistening patterned tiles of the floor. Panic flickered through my face as I curse myself for even considering getting out of the comfort of the warm sheets of my bed this morning. Yet, I could only gaze at the folded paper now exposed in the verso. I flip my head toward the wall where the false verso was steadily hanging as my lips parted in astonishment.
I bend down, grasping the paper between my eager fingers, but before looking through it, I observe if any damage was caused to the royal portrait. For my solace, it was not. Then, with all the vigour, it returns to its rightful place. I heave a sigh of relief before concentrating all my attention toward the yellowing paper swiftly unfolded, unveiling so a set of lines, presented as a quatrain written in fading ink that reads:
'Volare, volare, avicula254Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcU1g0T3A0X
Fugietis a salute vestra254Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoqz56wAgjv
Et flabit ventus viam tuam254Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq6xeHaBZSU
Ad portas aureas'
Ere I was able to comprehend its meaning, the creak sound at the end of the hall announces someone's arrival. The piece of paper is flung between the pages of my notebook as soon as the willowy silhouette appeared before my eyes.
"Good evening, Princess." The man walking toward me bows in reverence.
"Mr. Jacks, what a surprise!" I smile at the jovial man. Luckily the short heels of his polished shoes were enough to make themselves notable in the distance.
"I must insist, Your Highness, that you call me Jacobini."
"If it is your wish." I nod. "Tell me, will you join us for dinner tonight?"
"I certainly will. I have heard only good things about Mrs. Savignae's cooks so far."
"She truly is the best cook of Aurelia and its surroundings, if not the whole world."
I found curious the thin glasses laying on the tip of his sharp nose, held by a simple strip of fabric connecting the arms of the round glasses behind his head, since I have never seen ones quite similar. Jacobini must have noticed my sudden interest toward the gold accessory he wears, for what he remarks, "It is a creation of mine. They are trending in the great cities of the realm."
"The great cities, you say. Please, do tell me more about the lands that prevail there."
"Well, what to say? The fashion trending is in such constant evolution that it might be hard to accompany. Not only that sector, but the facilities, the transportations, even society. Everything is developing so fast..."
"What about the people? How are they?"
"Short, tall. Fit or fat. The nobility is extravagant, the gossip flows from one land to another in record time. There are people to any like and taste. They are quite unique, each person a single individual."
"Sounds like a whole other world! With revolutions and new ideas to implement from the people who are not afraid to evolve with the world thorough the times!"
"Ah, yes, progress... dreaded by so many yet, not understood by as many."
I studied about the lands in books and old parchments, but speaking with a true native made everything feel nearer, more real. I have never visited the great cities of Mellwand although I had not much to complain about. My family spares quite the time traveling across neighbor kingdoms that, for times, I was the one refusing to leave the palace. Visiting other royal families implied having to smile all the time until my cheeks hurt so badly to the point that I can not feel them anymore, other tortures include being obligated to tolerate any behavior and word that comes from them in order not to start a war, of course. It was tiresome, even awful, at times, and the thought that I was hosting an event for all the royals at the palace - at my home - made my stomach churn.
That night, we join my parents for dinner and it was nice to have more people at the table for once. Although Lawrence could join us as he did sometimes, he has always preferred to eat downstairs, on his bedroom or around the village. No one truly knows where he spends the time he has when he is not around.
"So, tell me, Jacobini, what are you thinking of Aurelia thus far?" my Father questions the man as he takes the fork into his mouth, groaning for the taste of the lamb.
"Oh, where do I even begin? The weather is simply rejuvenating, the food exquisite, the view here is magnificent! And it all seems so peaceful here. I must admit, I became so fond of this land that I considered thoughtfully bringing all my luggage and make a life here."
My Father laughs. "You would be more than welcome, then."
"I doubt my belongings would all fit in a carriage but I must thank you for being so kind as to accommodate me in your palace for the following days, Your Majesties."
"It's the least we could do," Mother remarks. "We do also appreciate you coming all the way here merely for this ball."
"But of course. How could I not?" Jacobini nods.
"We are taking a ride to the village tomorrow morning, would you like to join us?"
"I would be honored, but unfortunately, I do not believe that I could enjoy the most your beautiful kingdom has to offer with so much work on my hands yet. Perhaps I can accompany you another day."
The sun went down and a new day raised above Aurelia. Every Sunday morning, my family had the tradition to go for a ride and take a walk in the village down the hill, which I dare to say, was my favorite tradition of them all.
"Good morning, Princess," Claire sings before opening the curtains, immediately resulting in the sunbeams to flood the room in light as I stretch my arms and a yawn forces my lips to part. Readily, I rise from beneath the soft silky sheets where I lay, into the slippers resting over the fur carpet peering from beneath the gold frame of the bed.
"Good morning, Claire."
I sit over the Egyptian cotton white bedspread that suited along with the cushioned headboard and the gilt, pearl and mahogany pillows over the bed. After I slip into the dusty rose dress, Claire sits behind me, and patiently starts combing my hair.
"Are you nervous about the ball?" she asks excitedly.
"Not at all," I lie. "I barely think about it."
"Well, I begrudge you. I would be a bundle of nerves if all the royals were competing for my hand!"
I let out a chuckle. "Isn't it odd when you put it like that?"
"Odd? How so? You are the future Queen of the greatest kingdom in the surroundings. Who wouldn't like to marry you?"
"That is what I find to be so strange about it. I don't want people to like me as the future Queen. I want them to like me for who I truly am. Lydia. Without a surname or a title. How can I be certain if I find my true love when all they want is the crown?"
"Nonsense," she reassures me. "As soon as they get to know the real Lydia of Aurelia, they will fall for you, not for the title you hold. Besides, you are beautiful. Those blue eyes of yours gleam like precious sapphires, your hair flows like a gold thread over your shoulders, and your skin feels as delicate as the petals of a flower. Only a fool would refuse to love you." Her skillful fingers tie the strands braided on the rear of my head with a pink satin bow. "You're all set."
I turn around to face Claire and make the question that has been hanging on my head for quite a long time. "You truly believe that?"
She takes my hands on hers before giving me an answer, "I know so." An infectious smile spreads on her lips. "Now go, before you arrive late."
"Thank you." I climb out the bed and haste toward the hallway. "See you afterwords!"
Stepping down the stairs from the main doors of the palace, I am greeted by the dazzling sunbeams of the early morning. The carriage was being prepared for the ride upon the warm soil of the front yard. Ahead, two smoky black horses stood majestically on their hoofs, delightedly taking a restoring sun bath. I walk near the two animals, and as if instinctively, my hand raises to stroke their muzzles, feeling their soft hair amid my fingers.
"I do have to feed them before they go." The familiar characteristic accent from a near province announces the arrival of Mr. Reidford in the Gardens. "A little help comes always in good hand."
I turn to face a man wearing his gilt hair stuck into a low ponytail as per usual. Willingly, he reaches for a couple of luscious carrots from the large pocket of his light brown overall, handing them to me. Thunder rapidly finds his way toward the orange vegetable, tickling the skin of my hand. On the other hand, Storm waits patiently for me to offer him the carrot, receiving a thrilled neigh in gratitude. I chuckle at the delighted animals, rubbing their own cheeks on my hands.
"You do have a way with animals, ma'am," Mr. Reidford remarks.
"It is not hard when they are such lovely creatures." My eyes dart back at the head groom of Aurelia as I leave the exultant animals to rest before the ride ahead. "But do tell me, how is Mrs. Reidford today?"
"I would say she is cleaning the stables by now. That woman does not stay still for a second!" He laughs. "When I thought the big belly would make her lie down on the bed and call me whenever she needed anything, well, I was very mistaken. I told her already she can not take arduous tasks but does that stubborn woman ever listen to me?!" I smile at his words.
We could certainly consider the Reidfords as the light of the palace. So many years went by since those two were together that I recall watching them when I was still a mere child. They would argue about everything and nothing, and a second later, passionate glances between the two of them condemned their grumpiness, leaving them - more than ever - madly in love with each other.
"Don't you already know your wife, Mr. Reidford? Not even a earthquake could hold her back."
"That is true, ma'am. That is very true."
"But please, do keep me abreast of the baby. I would be more than pleased to help with anything in my power."
"It's very kind of you, Princess. We'll do."
The servants roaming around the yard bow suddenly toward the main doors. I lift my gaze to watch as the monarchs walk down the steps. Their chins held high in greatness and a smile gleaming on their faces.
"Your Majesties." Crowley opens the door for the carriage.
My Mother is the first to step inside, with a foot on the carriage step and the hand of Mr. Crowley holding hers. My Father follows right after.
With a courteous look, I say goodbye to Mr. Reidford and approach the vehicle. Promptly, Mr. Crowley offers me his hand to help me hop inside as well.
"Stay away from trouble this time, young lady," he murmurs only for me to hear.
"You taught me not to ought what I could not keep." I let out a playful grin. "But I can promise I shall do my best." He shakes his head doubtfully but I watch his tender smile grow from the corner of my eye as I slide along the velvet cushioned seat.
Soon, the carriage circles around the fountain parting along the broad path of light land between the green carpets adorned by several ornaments as sculptures and topiaries bordered by imposing hedgerows. Two gleaming helmets forged of fine gold shield the heads of the knights standing guard at the high gates that glide open in order to let the carriage pass through.254Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXHhsp9tFPu
