My hands shake as I stare at my father. How could he do this to me? My dear father, my best friend, leaving? And for how long? My lip quivers and a lump forms in my throat. I can't be left alone. I hate being alone.
"I'm sorry, Ana, we have no other choice." Father's voice is steady, but his face becomes blurry as my eyes well with tears.
"Anastasia, say goodbye to your father before he leaves. You don't know how long it will be before you see him again." Mother's words are stern, but her tone is soft. Like a ripple in water.
I hate that she said that to me. I know Father is leaving, I know I won't see him for a long time. But her saying it out loud makes a sob escape my mouth. I run to my father, shutting my eyes and wrapping my arms around his waist. My chest heaves as I cry, and I catch a few words Father says before he lets go.
"You're stronger than you know, Ana, I'll be home before long."
I look up at him, blinking away my last tears, and nod.
"But where are you going?" I ask quietly, my voice shaky.
"You see those mountains?" Father turns to the window, pointing at a group of mountains in the distance. "I'll be just behind them. And each morning you can watch the sun rise, for soon I will be traveling in the sun's light to make it home. I love you, now goodbye dear."
My heart aches as I watch Father leave. He walks slowly, in a straight line right toward those mountains. I can't bear to see him disappear as he gets further away, so I turn and begin to run. But I feel Mother's hands grabbing hold of my waist, saying words that I cannot hear over my own cries. She tries to comfort me, but it is no use. I flail my arms as I scream my throat raw, before breaking myself from her grip and running far into the forest.
***
Silence. Some describe its presence as comforting, like a warm embrace in the saddest moments. Like an escape from all the world's troubles and noise.
But now I can feel its cold hands wrapped around my throat as I struggle to breathe. My eyes shift from the forest bed beneath my feet to the myriad of evergreens around me, and I suddenly feel so small. I sit on the ground and hug my knees, and cry until my lungs can't take it anymore.
I'm lost, and I'm weak, and I feel so very alone. How could I be so foolish as to run into the forest, so upset that I didn't pay any mind as to where I was going? Now I have no sense of direction, and Mother probably doesn't even care that I'm gone. I might as well be dead.
"Um, pardon me, are you alright?" I feel a tap on my shoulder and I look up. A boy with messy brown hair and big brown eyes looks down at me, his voice soft and compassionate.
I swallow the lump in my throat and wipe the tears from my face, standing up.
"Yes, I'm fine." I say harshly, brushing the dirt from the back of my dress. The boy blinks, but if he is offended he does a good job at not showing it.
"I'm Maxwell. I can show you back to town, if you'd like. I know these woods like the back of my hand," He smiles sweetly, and I feel my frown disappear.
There is something about him, something that I can't quite put my finger on. He seems almost familiar, like we've known each other all our lives.
"I'm Ana. And yes, thank you, I would find that quite helpful," I can't help but smile back at him.
***
"I try to tell myself that I can't keep getting my hopes up each time my father returns, but I still feel so gutted when he leaves again. It's been ten years now of this back and forth, and I still can't seem to grasp the fact that we will never be a complete family. Not without my father." I drop my gaze to the ground, shaking my head. I don't cry anymore when Father leaves to Knothingham, but I still can't help ranting to Maxwell. He is my best friend, after all.
It took me a few days after we met to realize why Maxwell and I got along so brilliantly, but I quickly noticed how remarkably similar he was to my dear father. From his relaxed nature and silent brilliance, to his selfless heart and clever humor.
"Well, the mind is a complex thing." Maxwell says slowly, as if he is thinking through every word to make sure he gets his point across, "No matter how tenacious our efforts are, some things we simply cannot control."
I nod, considering what he said. He does have a point, I suppose, but his words don't exactly make me feel any better. I decide it is probably best to just change the subject.
"How is your Grandmother doing?" I ask softly, hoping he replies positively. Maxwell's grandmother, Alice, has been raising him for as long as I've known him. I still remember the day I first met Alice, and how I asked Maxwell later that day why his mother was so old. He then explained to me that she was not his mother, but his grandmother. I had the good sense not to ask him where his mother was, but that doesn't mean I didn't wonder. It was quite unusual for a boy so young not to have a mother there to care for him.
It took some time before Maxwell felt comfortable enough to share the story. How his parents left on a trip to Aaclya, a neighboring kingdom, while his grandmother watched over him. He was only seven years old at the time. The trip was only supposed to take a month at most, but his parents never returned. They sent no letters of explanation, simply disappeared.
Maxwell has no way of knowing if his parents died, or if they abandoned him on purpose. Even though he does not say it, I know that the abandonment has affected him. And, in some ways, I could say it has shaped who he is today. Maxwell is kind, but he does not trust easily. He is wary of people, and tends to cling to anyone who does stick around, as if they could vanish at any moment. And, as sad as it is, the truth is that his grandmother could vanish at any moment.
She is getting older and weaker every day, and people here in Caderivia don't live very long. The little money we have is spent to ensure we don't starve, and doctors are ridiculously impossible to afford. And even if you were able to pay for a doctor, they are very hard to come by.
Sometimes I wonder if Maxwell has come to terms about Alice passing away. I know it's going to be very difficult for him to handle her death, even if he doesn't admit it.
My chest tightens as I watch Maxwell's gaze drop to the floor. Suddenly I feel guilty, like I shouldn't have brought her up.
"She's alright." he says the words with such apathy that I can't help but frown. He's feeling something, but suppressing it. He doesn't want me to know whatever emotion is bottled up inside of him. I can tell by the way he presses his lips together, avoiding my gaze.
Why is it that boys feel as if they cannot express their emotions? I wish he would trust me enough to know that I just want to listen. I can't imagine what it would be like to feel something, but know you just have to ignore it.
If I felt a lump forming in my throat, I would give in and cry. I'd let myself feel all the emotions in the moment. But I'm positive that if he was in the same situation, he would swallow the lump until it went away.
Then, I notice something. His fists are in tight balls, his foot tapping rhythmically on the grass.
"You're angry." I say frankly, "Why are you angry?"
Maxwell looks at me. This happens quite often. I've known him so long, nearly ten years now, yet he always seems so shocked when I tell him exactly how he's feeling. Perhaps I know how to identify his emotions better than he does.
Then Maxwell chuckles. He shakes his head as his gaze falls, and for a moment I think he's happy. But I can tell by the way he spits out his next words so spitefully that there is no way he could be blithe in this moment.
"Our kingdom is corrupt, Ana. They give us nothing, yet expect us to do everything. My grandmother could have lived another decade if she wasn't working a man's job just to keep me alive, and starving all her life. And what a life that was. Our Queen makes laws without even considering the fact that if she was in our shoes, she would be stealing and rebelling far more than we do." Maxwell pauses, taking in a deep breath. He was practically yelling just then, and I think he call tell by the shock on my face that he should try to collect himself. I don't think I've ever seen him get so worked up about a subject, in the entirety of our friendship.
"I'm sorry." his voice is soft now, but he's not done quite yet, "Ana, your father is hundreds of miles away right now, working fifteen hours a day just so you can have a half-decent life." I blink as he says that, hurt that he would bring up my father. I know he said it to prove a point, but it only reminds me of my father's absence and I have to try hard not to let myself cry.
"I mean, don't you see the problem?" Maxwell asks, his eyes looking soft and thoughtful.
"Of course I do, Maxwell, but we must be reasonable here. There is nothing we can do about it. If we rebelled, we would be killed on the spot. The Queen knows her place, and if anyone dares to challenge her authority, she has the right to execute them." I stare at him for a few moments, letting my words hang true in the air. He knows that I am right. I can tell by the way he bowed his head as I spoke. His flash of fury has dissipated now, but that doesn't mean his opinions will change. Like I told him, I agree with him, but there is nothing we can do to put an end to the unjust state of our kingdom.
***
A savory scent of mutton stew pervades the air as I walk into the house, making my mouth water. My twin sister, Liza, looks up as I close the front door behind me. I watch as she places three plates on our small wooden table, straightening the silverware beside it. I open my mouth to remind her to add another plate, but my heart sinks as the truth hits me. That's right, Father left yesterday. It is going to be a while before we will be setting the table for four again.
"Do you need any more help?" I ask Mother. She turns around, a grateful smile crossing her lips. She must have been so concentrated on preparing supper that she hardly noticed my presence. She tends to do that a lot.
"Yes, dear, if you don't mind getting the bread off of the fire?" Mother turns back to whatever she was doing before, not even waiting for me to say yes.
I wrap a cloth around my hand and pull the pan off of the fire, the smell of warm rye bread so pleasant and comforting. I dump the bread out of the pan, and slice it while it's still hot. By now our entire supper fits snugly on the table, Liza and Mother both sitting around it. I take my seat in the empty chair, not able to help how my eyes wander to the fourth chair which now sits by the fireplace.
"Supper looks delicious, Mother." Liza says with a smile. This is something Father tends to say about every meal Mother makes, and Liza saying it feels odd. But it is true.
From stew and mashed potatoes, to bread and peas... This is a meal completely out of the ordinary. Supper was even more exciting yesterday evening, before Father had to leave, and we had a lot of extra vegetables, dough, and meat for today.
"Thank you, Adeliza. Your assistance with the stew was much appreciated." Mother places her hand onto my sister's, the gesture subtle but meaningful. Suddenly I'm flooded with a wave of jealousy. If only I had spent the day helping Mother, instead of talking with Maxwell. Surely then I would be the one she was thanking, and not Liza.
"How was your day with Maxwell, Ana? And yours with Suzzette?" Mother looks from me to Liza. Suzzette is Liza's best friend. She is easily the prettiest girl in town, with Liza being a close second, and all the boys fall for her. She is gossipy and chatty, but never hesitates to help my mother with something. Most people wouldn't guess it just by looking at her, but Suzzette is actually a really thoughtful person. My parents adore her, but she and I have never really considered each other friends. Despite her coming over quite often, we just have never really had the chance to talk and get to know each other.
"The day was good," I reply, spooning stew into my bowl. Mother nods, then turns to Liza.
"Suzzette and I attended a performance at the theatre, and it was splendid. You see, I had no idea we would go to a play today, but Suzzette's mother got a hold of two tickets, and they surprised me!" Liza exclaims, "I haven't been to the theatre in quite a while now, and I enjoyed every moment."
"How wonderful, dear. I am so happy for you. It is always a treat to attend a play. You must tell Suzzette's mother thank for me for the tickets, and thank Suzzette for inviting you." Mother says sweetly, "I have just been here all day, as you know, running errands and preparing supper. Miss Harriet Wrightwell came by to chat this afternoon. Her husband is getting sick, you see, and he may have to quit his job." Liza sucks in an audible breath, her hand coming to her mouth.
"How awful..." she says sympathetically. Mother nods in agreement.
I am nearly finished with my supper by now, whilst Liza and Mother take occasional bites in between their conversation.
"Is Suzzette doing well?" Mother asks before putting a forkful of peas in her mouth.
"Yes, she is. They are getting more and more wealthy each day, and I'm afraid she'll find friends of her high-class and leave me behind." Liza shrugs indifferently, but I can tell this worries her. She and Suzzette have been the best of friends for as long as I can remember, it would be a tragedy if they drifted apart simply because Suzzette's family is getting rich.
"I couldn't see her doing something like that," I chime in, hoping to give my sister at least some comfort. And I'm not lying.
"Thanks, Ana, but she could even do it unintentionally. That's the worrying part." Liza pauses, then smiles, "But lets not talk about such things. Suzzette is doing well, to answer your question Mother, and she actually told me of a rumor going around on our way to the theatre."
Of course she did. I think snidely, before scolding myself. Sometimes my thoughts turn vile, and I can't seem to help it. What I meant is that I am not surprised Suzzette was spreading rumors. She has a liking for that kind of stuff.
"Oh? And what is that?" Mother inquires curiously.
"She said that the prince, I can never seem to remember his name, has returned from his trips across the country."
"Ah, yes, his trips to the other six kingdoms to find a princess to marry." Mother confirms.
"Yes. So she said that he has returned, and that he is going to throw a ball this season to meet noble women... Noble women to marry," Liza waits a moment for us to realize what she said. Soon my eyes grow wide in disbelief.
"Surely those must only be rumors," I say, "The prince would never even consider to court any woman who is less that royalty."
"And that's what's interesting, Ana! It seems false, but Suzzette's father is the one who told her this. And he's not one to lie, is he?" Liza raises an eyebrow as she waits for a response. But I just shake my head, spooning my last bit of soup into my mouth.
"Well what did Charles say?" Mother asks. Charles is Suzzette's father, a smart man who I've only spoken to once. But from that one interaction I could tell that, unlike his daughter, he does not dabble in the world of gossip and rumors.
"He said that his brother William, a gentry and a very respected man, was speaking to one of the prince's guards. The guard said that the prince was on his way back, and that he ordered servants to begin planning a ball. A ball in which he would find his future bride. And since there are no other princesses in this kingdom that could make it to this ball, one must only assume that he is considering courting, and even marrying, a noble." Liza tells us this as if she has the story memorized, not forgetting a single detail.
"This is unheard of!" I exclaim. Liza smiles widely, nodding in agreement. My eyes wander to Mother, who sits quietly. Her lips are pressed together thinly as if to suppress a smile, and she seems to avoid me and Liza's gaze. I see Liza's eyebrows wrinkle as she too notices Mother's odd demeanor. My guess is she either doesn't know what to make of this news, or she is keeping some sort of a secret. Hiding something from us.
"Mother..." Liza drags on the word, looking just as suspicious as I am. Mother is a very honest woman, and rarely ever hides anything from her own daughters.
"Yes?" she looks up, glancing at our prying eyes with a childlike shame. Then a small smile spreads across her face and she stares at her lap.
"You girls are too smart..." she still doesn't look at us, just at her interwoven fingers that are clasped together, "Your father was the one who wanted to tell you this, but I suppose he may not be back in time. And I'm too bad of a liar to keep it a secret for very long, so I may as well tell you now."
I look at my sister, confused. I probably share the same puzzled expression which crosses her face in this moment.
"Your father had the idea to pay for tickets for you girls to go to your first ball once you turn sixteen. And now that you are of age, this is the year. You'll both be going to the annual ball! And you may even dance with the prince, who is your same age!" A cheery, ecstatic grin is on my mother's face now, but Liza and I are too shocked to be happy. It takes us a few moments to register what she said, and to realize that she is not lying.
Never in my wildest dreams did I even imagine I would be able to go to a ball. Not in the entirety of my middle-class life. Balls are for the noble, not me. This can't be real. My thoughts are running wild, in as much disbelief as I am.
"How?" is all I can say.
"Your father has been setting aside a portion of all of his earnings to save up for you girls to go to a ball. He has always said that you are his little princesses, and that you should get all of the opportunities that one would."
"Oh, father..." Liza laughs, giddy with excitement, "That is something he would say, isn't it?"
Suddenly all of the emotions hit me. All of the joy, the gratitude, the elation that I will be going to a royal ball this year, wearing a lavish dress with sparkling jewelry, and the prince of Caderivia may even dance with me...