The young kitchen stewardess stood at the sink, lost in thought, as she completed her duties. She contemplated the rest of her to-do list while mindlessly scrubbing the cups in the warm soapy water. She gazed out of the bay window in front of her, grateful for the opportunity to work in the countryside estate in the south of Italy.
Beyond the large window was a gorgeous view of the Port of Badisco with the crystal blue waters and white cliff sides. The house is set back a little from the cliff face, but still, close enough, the edge and water could be seen from her position in the kitchen.
She has been working at the country house since the princess was sent here many months ago and has since gotten used to her routines. Every day after lessons, the princess would walk past the window, through the luscious green grass, past the field of trees, and stand right at the cliff's edge.
Just looking.
The princess would stand at the very edge for hours, observing the coming and going of the tides, and the animals, feeling the breeze on her face. At first, the maid was concerned as she knew how quiet and somber the princess would be around the house. She was nervous that she would end up over the edge, and so she would wait with bated breath, watching from behind the glass, the young woman at the ledge.
She didn't know what felt different about today, but when the shadow passed in front of the kitchen window, something came over the maid, like a deep feeling of dread. She watched the princess make her way down the worn path, her hands stilling under the sudds and water.
Her eyes trailed over the princess' frame, something seeming off about today. There was a pit in her stomach as she watched, filling with dread. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew something was wrong. She rinsed her hands off and slowly dried them on her apron as she moved to the doorway, still watching with rapt attention.
The maid realized that the princess was at the very edge, farther than she had gone previously. And she was moving. She held her hand over her eyes, blocking out the sun, and squinted as she realized. . . The princess was. . . bouncing?
The young woman felt her stomach bottom out inside of her, blood rushed to her ears, and she stumbled forward a step. The princess began rocking on her toes, her hands hanging lifeless by her side. The maid began running, praying simultaneously, that she would make it the fifty-meter distance in time.
On the ledge, Princess Cordelia felt peace for the first time in six months. She felt the breeze caress her face, the sun warming her scalp, and the smell of the salty air encouraged her to come closer. She smiled, enjoying the serene feeling that came with the sense of knowing what was about to happen.
She took one last deep breath, filling her lungs with air, to the point of bursting.
And just let go.
Free at last.
YOU ARE READING
Incongruous
RomanceTo the world and her family, Princess Cordelia is known as the troublesome, youngest child of the King and Queen of Sicily. She is rebellious, always causing trouble, and known as the royal harlot of Italy. To her ladies in waiting, she is known as...
