What Must Not Be Told

Tea, Biscuit, And Archery

Anne

For the next one and a half months, I immersed myself in assisting Marilyn with the intricate preparations for her impending wedding. Engaging in these tasks provided a welcome distraction, redirecting my thoughts from the burdens that previously occupied my mind. The letters from Constable Green, once a regular source of information, have ceased for the past month and a half. In the lonely hours of the night, I find solace in reading and rereading the copy of the initial report he sent me in his last correspondence.

Anticipating no imminent letters, I understand there is little I can accomplish while residing away from my home in Azurelia. A glimmer of hope resides in my heart that, once Marilyn's wedding concludes, I might journey back to Azurelia, if only for a brief respite. The yearning for home weighs heavy on my soul - for my siblings, for my parents, and most profoundly, for Andrew. Though I know his radiant smile will not grace my return, I can pay my respects at his resting place, a pilgrimage I've postponed for far too long.

"Your Highness?" Elliot's voice gently pulled me from the depths of my thoughts. I found myself seated in the garden, bathed in the warm embrace of spring's gentle sunlight. The season had cast away the lingering chill of winter, inviting me to revel in the renewed vibrancy of nature. It had become a ritual of mine to seek solace in the garden, where the blossoming flowers, lush green grass, and the harmonious melodies of birds created a serene symphony.

Draped in a pale pink dress, I no longer required the comfort of a shawl. Alone in my contemplation, I often indulged in tea and biscuits, relishing the fragrant ambiance that accompanied the unfolding of spring. Until this moment, Elliot had never ventured into my solitude. Yet, on this day, a shift in the ordinary unfolded.

Turning my head, I observed him standing at a respectful distance. With a bow of his head and hands intertwined before him, he exuded an air of composed dignity. Dressed in a beige shirt, black trousers, and knee-high boots, Elliot's neat and orderly appearance reflected the meticulous attention he paid to his attire. Despite the distance, his presence felt remarkably near, punctuating the tranquility of the garden with unspoken significance.

Offering him a friendly smile, I greeted, "Good afternoon, Elliot. How are you on this fine day?" Gesturing to the empty chair positioned a few feet from mine, I continued, "Come, have a seat. Would you care for some tea and biscuits? Mrs. Tillman baked these delectable coconut biscuits this morning. They are truly exquisite." My words flowed with warmth and genuine hospitality as I turned back to savor a sip of the warm tea.

I didn't allow him the chance to decline my offer, a practiced maneuver acquired through shared time under the same roof. Recognizing that direct requests might be met with reluctance, I chose to gently assert my intentions. The solution lay in swift command, a subtle mastery I had cultivated in our shared space. Elliot, ever the loyal servant of the Kingdom of Azurelia, found comfort in his designated role. While his inherent nature resisted being merely asked for companionship, my learned approach allowed me to gently command, always mindful to wield it in a manner befitting friendship rather than authority.

He hesitated briefly, casting a glance around before choosing to sit on the chair beside me. In the tranquil garden, we found ourselves alone. The gardener had just concluded the tasks of trimming bushes and grass, leaving us to the serenity of the outdoor space. The remaining household staff were occupied within the manor, and there were no prying eyes to witness our conversation.

"Your Highness, Lady Marilyn's wedding is in two weeks," he pointed out. I responded with a hum, offering him a warm smile. Observing that he hadn't prepared himself any tea, I took it upon myself to extend the courtesy. In matters as simple as pouring tea, I preferred not to summon additional help; the routine acts of daily living served as a respite from the constant attention bestowed upon me. "The lord and the lady have requested your, uh – and my, presence at Elderwood," he continued.