A Princess' Tale

Chapter Nineteen

If those supposed angels were true, then the first thing I had to accomplish was learn more about Beatrice. They said my Elouise had to finish what Beatrice couldn't. Although figuring out what that meant partly terrified me, the truth needed to be revealed sooner rather than later. It'd become quite evident that those angels were not willing to answer every question. Perhaps they couldn't. Or they simply wanted to watch me run around the castle in search of clues so I could feel accomplished.

The following morning, before meeting with everyone in the great hall, I made a detour to the library. It was traditional for queens to write in diaries. They served as personal history books for future generations. I wrote in my own as often as I could, especially during my grandest life events. When Elouise had been born, I wrote a passage every day for two months. I wanted her to read it when she grew older and learn about my journey with her.

Surely, Beatrice had kept a diary, too. Although she was not quite traditional in any sense, I hoped she had a reason to write. I knew too well that her relationship with Grandmother Luciana had been cold and distant. So, if she had written a diary, it hadn't been for her daughter. I prayed she had written for other reasons, though.

I entered the grand library and made a beeline for the shelves against the wall. The morning sun created a spotlight for the section I was looking at. They were in the order of the years the queen reigned, and I held my breath when I found Grandmother Luciana's. I pointed at it and moved toward the diaries before hers. Then my heart sank when it skipped to Queen Anne's instead of Beatrice's.

"No," I breathed. "You never wrote anything?" I heard the doors open and almost groaned until I heard Fayre calling out for me.

I smiled and whirled around. "I am in the back."

She emerged a moment later and sighed. "We've been waiting for you! Lily mentioned she saw you come in here."

"Yes... I decided to look for something."

"What do you need?" Fayre walked up to the shelves and squinted. "Maybe I can help."

I stared at her and pursed my lips. She hadn't liked when I banned the mention of the plague because it'd been connected to Edward. I knew she wouldn't be pleased if I told her about this. Yet I still wanted to. She was Fayre. I trusted her with my life. I despised keeping secrets. If I at least told her, it wouldn't be such a heavy burden to carry alone. Perhaps she would surprise me and offer to help me still.

"I have something to confess," I blurted.

Fayre faced me, knitting her eyebrows. "What is it?"

I refused to mention anything about the angels. She wouldn't believe me, and I wouldn't blame her. I hardly believed it myself.

"It's about Elouise," I began. "And please, before you say anything, I understand how baffling this may sound. I am going to attempt to gather as much evidence as possible. Until then, I want you to know my theory."

Her expression softened to something unreadable.

"There is no denying how peculiar it is that she has brown eyes," I spewed before I could think about it any longer. Then I kept going. "As much as I tried not to dwell on this, I failed greatly. My daughter has Beatrice's brown eyes. This means something. It has to mean something. I need to find Beatrice's diary. It might give me the answers I need."

"Oh, Tati, I promise you it doesn't," she responded, shaking her head like I had said something awful. As if she needed to assure me all was alright.

I blinked. "You have not let me finish explaining what I believe it means."