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O N E
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"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."
—Dr. Seuss
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"Don’t be afraid."
Queen Elizabeth had gotten what she wanted—a chance to raise her only child, but it came with dire consequences. For one, she couldn’t conceive. Elizabeth found out the hard way when she suffered several miscarriages a year after Alessandra was born. Physicians were baffled by the number of times she’d become pregnant and not even special remedies could save the child. It pained Elizabeth to see her children taken away in a cloth and set a flame knowing they’d never had a chance at life. She blamed herself many times over, but she couldn’t change the past. She’d acted in the way any mother would when faced with the decision to leave their newborn child or die.
For many years she waited for the day that Hades would return, but he didn’t. Within that time she’d started to enjoy the company of her daughter because she’d been the only one who’d known what she had to do to come back to life and see her child again.
She would take that secret to her grave.
No one would believe her if she’d told anyone. So, she suffered in silence as she watched her child grow into a beautiful young woman. Elizabeth had made it a rule that before bed and before any ceremonies or events that they would attend, she would be the one to dress her daughter because the deal with Hades only allowed her to touch Alessandra after she turned thirteen.
Elizabeth could never forget the bargain. When her daughter turned thirteen then she would activate her curse. Anyone who touched her would die upon skin-to-skin contact. Elizabeth doubted that such a thing was real, but she was proven wrong when Alessandra’s appointed nurse and caretaker had mysteriously died over night in her sleep.
It’d been so sudden and strange that a woman who was barely in her sixties and fitfully healthy had passed away in her sleep. To the people, it was a mystery and they wanted answers, but Elizabeth would never tell them that Mary made the mistake of touching Alessandra on the day of her thirteenth birthday. Elizabeth was so traumatized that she quarantined her daughter in her bedroom for the rest of the day much to the surprise of the king and anyone else who wanted to celebrate the princess’ birthday.
The King.
He hadn’t been intimate with his Queen for years. There was talk of a mistress that’d kept the King busy, but even then he’d grown restless. With the pressure of producing a male heir, he’d started to become irritable. He hadn’t made much contact with his daughter or even acknowledged her during public outings when they had to act like a royal and loving family in front of their people. He withdrew from his Queen and stopped visiting her bedchamber.
That’d suited Elizabeth just fine. She couldn’t bear the thought of finding out she was pregnant just to lose the life before it even had a chance. A total of four children had died in her womb and yet she couldn’t mourn them because their bodies were immediately extinguished with fire.
At night she prayed for every one of her children because she knew that one day—very soon—she would meet them again. However, she tried not to think about dying because she had a duty—a right to see that her daughter’s life remained prosperous. She’d gotten Alessandra the best teachers, even though she had to supervise each of their visits when she turned thirteen so that none of them made the mistake of touching her. She taught her daughter elegance and the grace of a royal princess and tended to her every need that a servant couldn’t.
They didn’t know it, but it was for their safety.
“You know why I am afraid, Mother.” Alessandra responded, slumping in her seat. No matter how hard she tried, Elizabeth couldn’t hide the truth. She knew she killed Mary. It didn’t take her long to connect the dots. Alessandra loved a horse that was gifted to her by Elizabeth when she was fifteen, but it died shortly after she touched it. The same thing happened to all the dogs that Alessandra owned.
Hades prevented her from ever touching anything that breathed. It’d gotten so bad that Alessandra couldn’t sleep at night.
“I know, my precious one.” Elizabeth used her fingers to combed through the tangles of her soft curls. Once a soft blonde color and now a near white, Alessandra faced the changes that’d come with her curse. She looked like death with her pale skin and even paler hair. The vibrant blue hue of her eyes didn’t match the eye color of her parents, nor did the shade of her hair signify that she was the daughter of the two dark haired rulers in Evyon.
Important people began to notice and there was question whether or not Alessandra was even a true heir of the King, but the nurse and midwives present during the birth were able to confirm.
Alessandra sighed and continued to look at herself in the small round mirror on her vanity. A wide variety of jewelry lied displayed before her along with hair accessories that could sparkle in the night, but Alessandra resisted the urge to throw every piece against the wall. She was fed up with playing dress up only to have people gawk at her like she was some freak. She was angry that for another year she had to attend an event where she had to play pretend like everyone didn’t already know that something was wrong with her.
She dreaded any social outings. They weren't enjoyable if you were a cursed child—marked by death. For years now she had to learn the hard way to keep to herself. She couldn’t partake in simple activities that involved other people for fear that they might die. She didn’t have any real friends apart from her mother.
Socializing was hard when she couldn't mingle without keeping a strong distance. Even the gloves she wore seemed to be questioned. It wasn't common to see a lady of royalty wear gloves all year round. She was talked about as a sickly woman. Which only fueled her anger further as her father tried to establish a marriage of peace between nations.
Those didn’t last long as the suitors fell under the impression that she had scaled skin. There were times her father demanded she remove her gloves but she always refused. In her eyes, it was better to sustain his anger as he has always had with her than to sentence him to death.
"Everyone present tonight will know that you don’t like to be touched.” Elizabeth said reassuringly, though that did anything but comfort her daughter. The Queen began to loosely braid the tendrils of her daughter's hair while lacing one of the decorative ribbons through the weaved pattern. The black ribbon was going to match the dark dress she had made especially for this event.
Alessandra scoffed, slapping her mother’s hands away as she stood furiously. "That’s the problem! I want to be touched!"
Her silk cream shaded skirt and lace-tightened corset that cupped her body swam through the air as she moved briskly around her room. It shaped her curves and it was supposed to be worn as an undergarment.
“Alessandra—“
"I want to talk to people. I wanted to play with the other kids in the garden. I want to hold another’s hand. I want to feel the warmth of a man’s hands against my skin. I want to be kissed and swooned the way every other woman can—like you still can!"
"You will one day . . ." Elizabeth learned to be patient with this because she knew she’d have this discussion with Alessandra, but she couldn’t tell her about the deal just yet.
The truth was she had no idea what Hades had in store for her daughter and some selfish part of her hoped that he’d forgotten about the deal and he wouldn’t come back. But with each passing day she could feel it—him. She knew he was coming, and yet she wouldn’t let him ruin the time she’d spent with her daughter by telling Alessandra what was in store for her future.
"How do you know? I killed someone—I know it. Mary was a good woman; she shouldn’t have died like that. This curse is a burden. I am damned!” Alessandra hated herself. She hated this castle and all of the people in it. Even her father thought she was odd and kept away from her.
Elizabeth approached her daughter to console her like she’d done many times before whenever she had an outburst. “You did not kill them purposely. They were warned not to touch you. God will forgive you because this is not your doing—it is mine."
Elizabeth had never told her daughter of the deal she made. Never spoke it to another soul because who would believe her? She kept this burden to herself not only because she feared what would happen if people found out—most the King. He’d have sure enough reason to try her in court as a witch and have her hanged or beheaded.
It was selfish to put her daughter through this. Still, she wouldn't take it back if she could because she loved every minute she spent with her daughter. She loved the precious moments only a mother could witness her child go through. All the times she held Alessandra close when she was afraid and wiped away her tears when she cried.
The way King James pushed her away only made the motherly bond with Alessandra stronger.
"How is this your doing, Mother?” Alessandra questioned after catching the underlying tone of guilt in Queen Elizabeth’s tone. Alessandra never felt that this was a fault of anyone, only the work of God for whatever reason he may have had. Yet that was the reason she had such a kindred soul. She was always understanding and hopeful for people in general.
Elizabeth feigned a small smile. She wasn’t going to sully the moment. "It's a story for another time, my dear. Lets get you in your dress.”
Mother and daughter stood side by side as their grand entrance was made. The double doors opened for the two of them, leading into the fancy decorated ballroom in the castle. The king, of course, led the entry. King James had gained weight over the years and his hair was almost entirely grey. He’d adjusted the buckle on his pants as he walked hurriedly towards the table where the royals would sit for the feast. The king was expected to watch the festivities for the night with the option to mingle if he pleased.
Tonight was the celebration of the God, Christmas. For tonight everyone would be treated with kindness and all unpleasantness would be forgotten. It was well known that many people gave gifts to show their affections for their loved ones, but the royals would be gifted with the grandest treasures by their subordinates to show their undying love.
The Queen wore a deep emerald colored silk dress that complimented the Christmas theme while Alessandra's dress was a deep crimson with black and white laces running through the back and along the skirt. She was breathtaking and those that were in attendance bowed or curtsied to show their respects to their Queen and Princess.
Elizabeth squeezed her daughter’s hand and showed her a cheerful smile. "Don't forget to smile."
The crowd began to clear a path for the Queen, but no one gave her crucial looks like they did for Alessandra. While she made her way through, she avoided making eye contact until they finally found their seats. The Queen sat on the King’s right and his heir sat on his left. King James pointedly ignored them when they took their seats, but he had to play pretend. He raised the chalice filled with red wine and smile broadly at his guests.
“Happy Christmas!” King James said.
“Happy Christmas, Your Majesty.” Everyone replied then the party resumed. There was dancing from the performers and soft music playing in the background by the orchestra.
Alessandra once longed to play an instrument, but a teacher wasn’t permitted to come close to her. And her mother wasn’t educated on how to play the instruments she wanted to learn.
Servants began to approach the table with an array of food. They placed a plate in front of the royal family and Alessandra frowned at her simple bowl of soup. She wanted something more filling, but as a lady she had to watch what she ate.
“Is it not to your liking, child?” King James jeered. She didn’t know that her father had been watching her the whole time. “Will you not eat?”
She had her hands folded in her lap. “Yes.”
The royal family was the first to eat and then everyone else was served. It was the same routine. First, they ate. Second, they watched the special performances prepared for them. Third, they were to mingle with the guests that traveled far to spend Christmas with them.
Alessandra recognized a few of those attending the party. Three of which she had befriended at one time in her life. Priscilla Trescot, daughter to one of the most important councilmen of the King's Council, Remington Trescot.
Then there was Theresa Chapman. Her mother was the seamstress used by the royals and therefore housed inside the castle. Theresa had ultimately been the closest thing to a friend for Alessandra as she could have hoped. She showed her kindness and respect while she understood the boundaries. Theresa had known that a lady-in-waiting was suppose to take care of her Lady but Alessandra was a different case. She didn’t have official ladies-in-waiting.
Then there was Greer Winston. Her parents were cousins to Queen Elizabeth. Her mother was the sister of Elizabeth but she died four years ago of a plague when she visited the outskirts of Evyon. Still she had her father, Nick Winston, who was also a member of King James’ personal council. He had been given a position as one of the generals of the army but due to an injury in war he was disabled and was given one of King James’ estates.
All of them were fine young women and in time they would be betrothed. Alessandra was jealous of them as she spotted the ladies huddled in a tiny group, giggling without a care in the world. Meanwhile, she was stuck beside her grimacing father who looked like he’d rather be somewhere else. He thought she couldn’t see it, but she knew he was eyeing his mistress in the back of the room. Her name was Lucille and she’d been trying her best to keep herself busy with the guest and mingle, but every so often their eyes would connect. Alessandra cringed with disgust and shame that her father would low himself to the likes of a woman with no title or land.
“Order!” Someone shouted and the room became silent.
King James raised his chalice to signal that he was about to speak. “I now wish to receive the gifts!”
Everyone gathered in a line to his command with gifts ready in their hands. This was King James’ favorite part about the holiday. Their name was announced and their gift was presented. Some people brought their finest fabric and jewels and shoes. Others brought unordinary treasures that didn’t fascinate Alessandra but it won the attention of the King. He was happy with his new gifts, but Alessandra knew that he would store them away and never look at them again.
“Splendid, I will value every treasure I have received on this Holy night.” King James said. “And now, I wish to give my wife, and your Queen, her gift.”
Every year it’d been the same. King James always found a new dress to give to the Queen, but in truth he never put any thought in giving her anything meaningful. Alessandra loathed that her father didn’t really care for her mother. Elizabeth knew of his dislike of her, but she still had a duty to uphold in front of their people. She smiled and thanked her husband for his gift and ordered one of the servants to put it in her chamber.
“Now, I have a special gift for the Princess Alessandra,” King James finally looked at his daughter and it took everything for Alessandra not to frown. She hated his gifts because they were always something useless that she wouldn’t use or ever see again. “I am pleased to announced that I have arranged a marriage for the Princess to Prince Daniel Culbreth.”
Silence.