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Sleeping in the Garden

Author: Emmy Smith
last update Last Updated: 2024-05-13 03:17:51

Out of all the gardens, the one with the reflecting pool was my favorite. I could have chosen the Daisy Walk with the Pythorian statues, but I hate having the old gods watching me. It doesn’t feel safe. No. I much prefer being near the water, where no eyes watch, and I can hide away for as long as I need to.

Except for today, apparently. As I stride towards the gazebo in the center of the pool, tracing my fingers over the carved wood forming the bridge railing, I see my elder, and immediately younger sisters. They seem to be in some sort of heated debate, and I contemplate turning around, and walking away.

“Margherita, don’t you dare walk away.” Klover beckons me over. “You know that we have been waiting for you.” She stands in her tall dark beauty, regal.

Rosa is near her, her pale looks, so similar to mine, looking so much more pale next to our older, half-sister. “Margherita, please come tell her that she is being stupid, because she isn’t held under the curse.”

I finish crossing the bridge, and motion towards the benches. “Can we sit, while you drag me into your argument?” I am exhausted, but who wouldn’t be when they have just finished dancing for the King Underground? I’ve been back topside, in my beautiful Murkney for less than an hour, and already I have had six different sisters drag me into arguments.

“Please make this quick.” I plead. “I want to be able to sneak in the nap that I have planned. The longer it takes, the less time I have to nap, and it will become evident when Father calls me into the meeting.”

My sisters looked at each other. “Margherita,” Klover started. “It isn’t an argument. I found something going through Mother’s papers last night.” She pulled something from her pocket. “Mother kept a diary, and she mentioned a Deagal quite often. I don’t know exactly what role he played, but I figured if anyone could figure it out, it would be you.”

She handed me the small leatherbound book, a tree scorched into it. I lifted it to my nose, smelling the smoky, earthy smell. The paper smelled old and mildewed, the ink, rotten. “I don’t know. It smells old. I don’t know if I should even be handling this the way I am.”

I flipped the book to look at the spine. “It has so much potential. I’ll look at it, but I’m not going to promise anything, and I really need my nap first.”

Rosa stared into the distance. “Margherita, if anyone can figure out what Mother was talking about in her diary, it’ll be you. You spent the most time with her, training to become queen, especially towards the end. Klover was away with one of the noble families learning what it means to be the illegitimate child of the queen. The rest of us, were with our godparents, touring the other kingdoms, and being shown off as prizes to be won.”

I nodded, showing that I was following what she said. “You think that she might have told me something that would help decode whatever she was saying here.” I leafed through a few pages, my eyes catching the altogether familiar and foreign handwriting. I hadn’t seen my mother’s handwriting in nearly the nearly six years since she had died.

“I’ll try.” I promise, tucking the diary into my pocket, the weight of it tapping my leg in a way that was going to drive me insane. I shooed my sisters. “Please, leave me alone, now. I desperately need a nap before Father calls me.”

An hour. That’s how long I was able to have before Father sent Eugein to wake me. “Princess?” Father’s page is, for lack of a better word, a dalcop. He has been a page for nearly ten of my eighteen years, leading to the question of whether or not he is really a good option as a knight.

He touched my shoulder gingerly, as I struggled to sit up. “Do you need any help, Princess?” He gripped my shoulder, trying to help stabilize me.

I shoved his hand away, half asleep. “Don’t touch me.” I growled. “Never touch me again.”

I opened my eyes, and saw who I had just snapped out, and saw the terror in his eyes as he pulled his hand away from my shoulder. “Forgive me, Princess.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, Eugein! Forgive me!” I stumbled to my feet. “I wasn’t quite awake yet, and dreamt that you were one of the Underground King’s sons.” I held out my hand, beckoning him a little closer. “Pray, forgive me?”

“You did naught wrong, Princess.” He bowed awkwardly, “Is one of them undead princes trying to get fresh with you again?”

I shook my head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” I started crossing the bridge back to the main walkway of the garden. “What is on Father’s agenda today?”

Eugein shrugged, ambling beside me, his tall lanky frame looking out of place in the garden. “He didn’t say, just looked peeved at the letter.”

I stopped. “Another mewling prick sent Father a letter, and he summons me?”

The page stopped and looked at me. “Not just you, princess. He summoned all of his daughters.”

I ran through the castle corridors, slippers in hand, desperate to get to Father before my sisters. As I raced through the main hallway, slipping and sliding on the freshly cleaned floors, the servants stared, arms full of straw.

“I’m sorry, Mathilde!” I grimaced at the head maid as I skidded past her, grabbing the tapestry she was cleaning to bring myself to a stop right outside of the throne room. The thick fabric almost tore, under my weight, but thankfully the dragon my mother had embroidered held up against me.

I shoved my feet back into my slippers, adjusting my skirts, tugging at the base of my bodice to adjust my corset. I shook my sleeves, praying that nothing was in my hair. I turned towards the double doors, and pushed them open.

“Father.” I gazed across the room, noting that none of my sisters were gathered, yet. “What is it?”

He looked up from the paper in his hand, expression blank. “Margherita. Thank the gods that you were the first to come.” His hands shook as he stood from his throne, tripping down the steps. “Daughter, our worst nightmare has happened.”

He held the paper in his right hand out to me, the envelope crushed in his left. I took a deep breath, looking it over, holding the breath, almost scared to release it.

            King Gerard Alexandre Olivier III,

            It has come to our attention that twelve of the young women under your care are under an unforgivable curse that takes them out of your home all night, every third night. We would like to extend a challenge. We understand that a prince has gone missing who tried to discover exactly what is going on in your daughters’ nights.

            We propose that the three of us be given a chance to discover what abounds with your daughters’ cursed state. If one of us is able to discover the problem, and don’t go missing, then we be allowed to select a daughter to wed.

            If we don’t discover the problem, we propose that you open a competition to all, be he noble or common, with a princess’s hand as the prize for succeeding.

            We await word,

            Sincerely,

            Esai Gonzalez-Lopez, Viggo Zephyr Killian

I didn’t know what to say. Two princes offering to try to save us? I knew that one was considered a player, and that the other was knighted, but I knew nothing about them beyond that. How could I? Unlike my sisters, I had never left Murkney.

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