Be My Princess [Editing]

Royal Decree

Chapter 33--Finale

“Is it really you . . . ?”

This time the High King’s voice was a near whisper. He gazed into my eyes searching just as his wife had done. I crinkled my eyebrows and pulled away slightly. A smile came across his face.

“You never did like being stared at.” He said with a reminiscent smile.

“No, no, no.” I said stepping even further away from the two. I was tired of this. “I am not going to go through this again. I am tired of hearing that I am this princess and that princess. At this point I’d rather be a street girl again because atleast then I knew exactly who I was.” I stated for clarification.

“You are our Princess Arabella.” The Queen said with a soft tone.

“How do you know that?” I asked doubtfully.

I saw her smile widen. “You see this mark on your neck.” She said gesturing towards the mark I had known all my conscious life. I nodded waiting for her to go on. Deep down, I was actually hoping that she had some concrete evidence because I was dying for a sense of belonging. I needed to know that besides Rolan I had somewhere else that made me a ‘Princess’ as everyone had been so dutifully calling me. “You got that just a week before you disappeared. We were hosting a ball and the servant doing your hair accidentally burnt you with the coal iron. You cried none stop and it was so unnerving that we almost had her beheaded but you calmed down before then.”

I guess that would have explained why every time I touched it I felt a burning sensation . . .

“Do you need more proof?” She challenged. “Because I have plenty; I know my child. You had a purple stuffed dog that you could never sleep without and whenever we had guests we permitted you to take him to dinner as long as he stayed under the table. Your room windows are still bare because you’ve been distrustful ofcurtains since the day a bird flew through one and never flew out. Unless you’ve changed you sleep in a fetal position and you’re allergic to both grapes and cinnamon; the grapes turn your face red and cinnamon makes your tongue swell.” I looked at her with wide eyes. My lips parted to comment on her vast knowledge of me, that suppressed even my knowledge of me, but she cut me off. “You love the outdoors and would prefer to have your afternoon naps under the almond tree while your father and I sat enjoying the breeze. When you get nervous you play with your left ear and when you’re afraid you play with the right—something neither your father nor I particularly understood but we didn’t question it. I’m also pretty sure that you are uncertain of your birthday; the 11th of August?”

Really? “Wait so that would make me sixteen now or well two weeks ago instead of three months ago . . .” I said trying to grasp it all.

The two exchanged puzzled looks. “No . . . you’ve just turned 15.” The Queen said, with more than a hint of concern.

“But they all said that I disappeared fourteen years ago . . . when I was two . . .”

“Well you did disappear at the age of two . . .” The Queen said, sounding distracted as her eyes turned to the kings who had been silent the entire time. The High King on the other hand turned to them with a calm so tranquil that it was deceitful and a smile to tie in with the mix.

“Tell me men, which one of you laid claim to this young lady? I seem to have forgotten. And just which one of you felt that you had the right to tell her when she did or did not disappear?” none of them dared to answer and at the moment none of them could look at me or him. I guess that explained their silence. Those bastards. They knew who I really belonged to and yet innocent lives were lost and all for some kind of selfish gain. “Well, speak up.”