The Princess and the Lost Rose

Chapter One: The Letter

Annabelle Flitwick carefully lifted her lavender mug to her lips and breathed in it's contents. The sweet steam fogged up her round glasses and she scrunched up her nose. Hot chocolate in the morning had to be one of her most favourite things, apart from her music box and Nutkin.

She took a sip, savouring it in her mouth before swallowing. Chocolatey goodness! She peered over the rim of her cup at the fresh, green English countryside spread out before her, slowly waking from the storm that night.

The farm was now wet and full of muddy puddles, but the water droplets made everything sparkle like millions of diamonds.

She stopped drinking at the sound of a quiet rustle behind where she sat with her legs dangling off the porch. A smile spread across her freckled face, as she knew exactly who it was. Her chestnut friend — Nutkin the squirrel — bounded out of the doorway and onto her knee. She rubbed his little stump of a tail and he gave a happy chitter. 'You like that don't you Nutty.'

Annabelle felt like she'd known him forever, but really it had only been about a year since she discovered him in the forest with his beautiful tail covered with blood and caught in a horrible trap. The vet had had to amputate it. Since then the two had been inseparable.

'Ani, would you check the letterbox for me please, I'm expecting a letter from the OIO,' called the voice of her stepmother.

'I'd be happy to, Lacey!' Annabelle yelled back, putting down her mug and jumping off the porch onto the dewy grass. Nutkin jumped onto her shoulder and she ran to the side of the house where she removed the tarpaulin that had protected her lemon yellow bicycle from the rain, then peddled down the little path to the barn and driveway. She made her way past her stepmother's garden beds thick with multiple flowers of different colours and types. Her stepmother — who was a florist — had taught her all about the flowers' uses and meanings.

She adjusted her gold rimmed glasses as she neared the cherry red letterbox by the side of the road. She slid off her seat and onto the ground, making sure not to splash mud onto her well-used denim dungarees. She slowly unclipped the metal letter flap.

A couple of damp letters lay inside, just waiting to be opened. Annabelle began to pull them out, one by one, checking for any addressed to her. They were all mostly bills and rubbishy junkmail, but she just knew there was one for her. She shuffled through them again, making sure she hadn't missed anything. 'Bill, bills, bills! Are they ever going to—' she watched silently as something slipped from the pile and drifted into the puddle she'd been trying to avoid. Nutkin nearly fell off her shoulder as she shot to pick it up and shake the brown glop off the fallen letter.

The words on the front were done in neat, elegant gold ink that made her heart jump in its cage. Gold! This definitely looks promising...

A lot of the words were jumbled and smudged, but the ones that she could see were simple:

(?) (?) (?)nna(?) (?)

128 Meremoor(?)

(?) Arame(?)

(?) (?)

Annabelle turned the envelope over and slid her finger through the murky-beige coloured paper. The letter she pulled out was even more stunning, with its gold ink borders of roses and ivy, and little dots like stars dotting in between the tangle. The paper was scented with rose perfume, she noted as she paused to examine the writing — done yet again in gold.

To (?) (?) (?)nna(?) (?),

It has been quite a delight processing your application for our school, and I am glad to say that you have been accepted!

I am sure your years here at (?)indle(?) Hall will serve you well.

Here are a few things you need to know:

Arrival Day and Induction Night are on January twelve.

You may bring whatever you need to feel at home.

Late arrivals are permitted.

I am sure your presence here will be of great value.

Lady Rose and the School family.

The letter ended, then Annabelle squealed in a loud voice, 'Yes, yes, yes! Finally! Windledon Hall, at long last!'

This was the very letter she'd anxiously been awaiting. The letter of approval that would make way for learning what she loved most, and becoming what she wanted to be: the world's first ever floriographer.

Attending Windledon would mean leaving behind the only home she'd ever known, and her stepmother — and Nutkin, but Annabelle knew this sacrifice would be worth it.

Lacey... the letter from OIO! She shook out of her thoughtful daze and bounded back to reality. She'd skimmed right over the letter, she was sure. She flipped through the envelopes again and there, sure enough, was the long awaited reply from the organisation who poured their lives into finding out about the past of 'unidentified orphans'. She released a heavy sigh as she scooped the chestnut squirrel off her shoulder and nuzzled him against her cheek. 'I guess I'm one of them.'

Placing the letters in her straw bike-basket she started the long walk back up the hill, her mind tossing and turning. Where do I really come from?

Annabelle had always asked that question, but now, more than ever, she was dying to know the truth.

She paused halfway up the gravel driveway, at first glancing into the bike-basket then going against her own will to pull out the OIO letter. It was only for her stepmother to see, but she too was involved in the case of finding her real family. With her mind whirring, she opened the letter. Inside was a simple typed out message:

Lacey Flitwick,

We are sorry to say we have discovered no further clues as to where Annabelle's mother and family are, or any such clues about her — other than what you shared about the music box.

(Annabelle's heart sank as the last few words stuck in her brain.)

Once again, our deepest condolences;

The OIO Team.

(Things to note: The OIO stands for Orphan Investigation Organisation. 

And the ?s indicate where there are blurs in the letter.)

Amazon paperback coming soon!!!