Upon A Time

Chapter Eight Part Two

“How are we supposed to stop it?" Thomas asked. "The declaration concludes with the warning that anyone resisting the transfer of land back to The Crown shall be imprisoned, and if still rebellious, shall be hanged!”

“That man… that evil thing planning to take the throne, murdered the King and tried to murder the Prince in cold blood,” Charlotte whispered. “Julien said—”

“So you have been given special dispensation to call the Prince by his name?”

Charlotte blinked and stared at him. “He insisted, Thomas, I did not want to upset him.”

“He sleeps now, would it upset him to refer to him more properly?”

“You are fixed upon entirely the wrong point!” Charlotte exclaimed, her voice rising again. Thomas gestured for her to step out into the hall and she followed, closing the door behind her. “We are faced with losing everything, and then what happens? Where are the people to go, what are they to do? No one here has the kind of money the Duke is demanding.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“We cannot allow the Duke to take the throne.”

Thomas laughed. “You almost sound serious.”

“I am deadly serious. That throne belongs to Julien, and—“

“He is in no position to claim it!”

“Better he should rule the people justly from a bed than that traitorous monster from the throne!” She stomped her foot for emphasis, and suddenly she heard her name being called from the other side of the door. “I must see what Julien needs.”

Thomas’s complexion reddened. Charlotte could not believe what she was seeing in his eyes. Could it possibly be jealousy?

“He calls you by name now, as well?”

“Thomas, be careful,” Charlotte growled, turning away and yanking the door open with one strong pull. “You tread upon very thin ice.” She closed the door between them, and Thomas sighed.

“But… I love you,” he whispered, staring down at the floor.

“She may never understand that,” a voice answered from behind him, and Thomas startled. There stood small, frail Marie Rousseau, with a cup of tea held in her outstretched hands. “Take this, my boy, and soothe your soul with it.”

He could not meet her eyes.

“I am her mother, and nearly as close to you as yours is, Thomas. Do you think I did not know how you feel about her?”

“I had hoped no one knew how I felt about her. Least of all Charlotte,” Thomas replied.

“But why?” Marie asked, as she again entreated Thomas to take the cup. He finally acquiesced. She looped her arm through his and led him back toward the kitchen. “How are things ever going to change for the better between you unless you risk telling her how you feel?”

“Things may change in a direction I do not wish if I tell her how I feel. I may lose the friendship with her that I treasure so. If she does not feel the same way about me, then nothing will ever be the same again.”

“You must tell her eventually.”

“I cannot,” he set the teacup down and shook his head before placing a gentle kiss upon the old woman’s cheek. “I just… cannot. What kind of life do I have to offer her?”

“A life where she is adored, that is certain enough to me. What else matters?”

“I shall never be a knight.”