A Princess' Tale

Chapter Twenty-Three

Journis 5, 1580

1/5/1580

Three years later

"I found Beatrice's diary," I mentioned to Fayre as we sat in front of a fire in the drawing room.

Fayre looked up from the letter she'd been reading from her father. She simply blinked.

"Two, in fact," I added with a smile. As I reached for my teacup, I saw questions gleaming in her eyes.

"They do exist then?" she asked.

"They are my treasures." I sipped my tea. "Although the second one leaves me with so little, I feel connected to her. Besides, the first one indeed gives me great detail. I've learned much from it, and now I understand."

Fayre squinted at me, and I did my best to remain neutral. However, my erratic heart made it difficult to sit still. I nearly convinced myself I had Fayre right where I wanted her. Where I needed her.

"What do you mean?" she pressed, leaning forward with what I prayed was brilliant curiosity that would allow me to tell her everything.

Then Elouise rushed inside, singing out, "Mother! Mother!"

I could not even be disappointed that my moment had been interrupted. My sweet girl rushed up to my side and grabbed my wrist. She begged me to follow her. She had to show me what she had done outside in the snow with Lily. So, I followed. In a sense, I was glad. If I left Fayre without an answer, she would surely have plenty to dwell on.

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Faeren 18, 1580

2/18/1580

Elouise loved to skip ahead of Henry with her head held high. Since she was younger than him, she felt so proud to be the leader. And Henry never complained. Often a soft-spoken prince with an imagination as colorful as Elouise's, he followed her anywhere and took the blame for every trouble they found themselves in. I always knew it was Elouise's doing, but I could never be upset with either of them. Elouise had taught Henry the masters of batting eyelashes and pouting adorably. Therefore, I was left defeated each time and resorted to merely reminding them to behave.

For the most part, my Elouise was a darling child. She had more energy than I could keep up with, but I let her release it. I never had the chance to have another child. Though Philip and I tried—and still did—my body refused.

"Why do I struggle with this?" I asked the angels during one of our encounters.

"We wish we had an answer to give," the Angel of Fire responded. "Unfortunately, fate plays a cruel role sometimes." Every angel spoke far better now. Years of speaking with me and watching over us more carefully had helped them learn.

Many times, I couldn't believe this was my life. It sounded like a children's tale. The queen who spoke to angels in her dreams. Yes, I was aware how ludicrous it seemed. Every bit of normality had been torn from my grasp long ago, though.

Still, I did not mind. The angels had a mission, and they never pressured me to tell Elouise anything about it. They wanted her to live her childhood freely. I asked them once if I could wait until she was queen. They told me the Goddesses warned them of nineteen. I asked what that meant, but they didn't have an answer. Even so, they assured me Elouise could enjoy being a child. Should anything arise, they would warn me ahead of time.

The Five Goddesses who protected over realms in the far west like Occidentis Caelum could see into the future. They preferred to be cryptic in fear of manipulating time and making matters worse. I had never seen them, but the angels spoke highly of them. I left it as that because speaking to angels was already enough for me to handle.