Seize the Day

Chapter One

Once my heart rate slowed, I assembled the scattered papers together once more, organizing them into a hazardous heap of thoughts and writings. Wonderful. Now what was I supposed to do?

I glanced at the white scroll that the delivery man gave to me. It sat looking innocently on my desk, stark white against the dark wood. I normally didn't get mail, save for the monthly payments I received from the local tribune for my writings.

Maybe the scroll had gone to the wrong address? That was doubtful, though. The mail system in Aria was tuned to perfection—every possible flaw in its organization had been siphoned out due to the Queen's orders.

I poked the scroll absently as I thought about what was inside of it. It was probably best to open it, rather than wait. Poke. But what if it contained a message from a reader of my advice column? Poke. I hated messages from readers, because too many of them commented on my lonely lifestyle. Poke. There was nothing wrong with the way I lived. Poke. Just as long as I continued to give advice and voice my opinions, people would be happy.

Poke.

Before I could stop it, the scroll rolled right off the table and landed with a sickening splash in my aquaplant pot.

I bolted from my chair, nearly leaping over the desk to rescue the scroll from the water. The poor thing, now soaked and flimsy, looked pathetic as I set it on my kitchen table. I sighed and unraveled it. The ink on the scroll was slowly bleeding into itself. Its content would soon become incomprehensible. Grabbing a towel from the cupboard, I set the cloth across the scroll to dry it.

But something caught my eye in the scroll contents. Something that made me want to jump off a cliff and hide under a rock (and no, I certainly do not mean that in a figurative manner).

I lifted the cloth from the scroll and looked at the writing.

Dear Ms. Brackenbury,

Her Royal Highness, Duchess of Aria, has requested your audience to address the most grievous of dilemmas. Please be present at the Royal Castle two hours prior to noon tomorrow.

Respectfully,

Cicero Rauch

Royal Emissary of Her Royal Highness

My body and mind went into self-preservation mode. I set the cloth on the table. Walked over to my chair. Sat down. And stared at the wall in shock.

I was going to leave my house tomorrow.

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The door loomed in front of me like an impending doom. My only sanctuary was protected by seven locks bolting the door shut. Seven because six and eight were too even. Seven because six was too low and eight too high.

I had no sleep the previous night. I was too busy thinking about what a Royal could possibly want with me. I thought all night, and I still had no viable answer, save for a few painful theories. I couldn't refuse the offer—or rather, the command—to meet with the Duchess of Aria. No one could refuse a command like that. It would be suicide.

I had packed my emergency aid kit; it contained all the self-defense mechanisms which I would need in the outside world. Outside my home. To meet the duchess.

The rumors of the duchess' personality were far and wide. Some said that she, like all the Royals, was prideful and jealous. I believed those rumors. My mother used to work at the palace for a long, long time before she was kicked out by those upright scumbags. It had only been two years since her death, but it still hurt to think of my mother.

Either way, it was three hours before noon, and, according to the water dial on the table, I needed to be at the castle in exactly fifty-nine minutes and forty-five seconds. It was definitely good luck that those numbers weren't even.

I smoothed my ashen blonde hair into a ponytail and checked to make sure I was fully equipped. I had my cloak, my best trousers, and my boots. My blouse had an unfortunate stain on the back, but the garment was too dark for the flaw to actually be noticeable.

This was going to be okay. I would simply go to the duchess, she would say whatever she needed to say to me, and I would (hopefully) return home.

I made sure the aquaplant had enough water and double-checked my emergency kit, which was disguised as a messenger bag. I was so smart to carry that around.

I straightened my trousers. My blouse. Tightened my cloak.

I was ready for this.

I walked towards the door and slowly unlocked each bolt. One... Three... Seven... I opened it slowly.

A torrent of frigid air rushed into my room, and I almost closed the door, but I remembered what I needed to do. Opening it fully, I took one step onto the wild cobblestone streets of Aria. People bustled to and fro, giving me strange looks as they passed by.

This was good. I was doing well. I needed to keep a positive attitude. There would be no problem in getting to the castle today. No one would block my path. No one would knock me down—

"Paper, paper!" A man hollering on a bicycle was coming down the street—straight for me. "Get your papers!"

"Ah!" I stumbled back, nearly falling to the ground as he zoomed past me.

Nope.

I soared inside my house, slamming the door shut behind me. My heart thrummed like the pounding hooves of a thousand elk.

There was no way I was leaving my house.

Please be present at the Royal Castle two hours prior to noon tomorrow.

The words from the scroll bit sharply into my memory. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't have any choice. The Duchess of Aria could very well kill me if I didn't obey her summoning.

Well, she can kill me if she wants to!

But then I realized that I was too cowardly to die.

And besides, the hard part would just be going outside. The rest of it should be easy.

I opened the door once more.

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Cover: Model © Ylenia Manganelli via PrincessandDragon.deviantart.com; Background © Sean & Ashlie Nelson via AshenSorrow.deviantart.com; edited by me.