The eyes of Evette Adair, Fourth Queen of Vix, glazed over. No one in the Queen's bedchamber noticed. Everyone was focused upon the babe that had sprung from her loins just moments before. When the silence of the room was broken by the squall of the newborn, it was only then that the Queen's most trusted advisor and friend turned to smile at the new mother. The words of congratulations never left the young woman's lips, but a wail of deep sorrow did.
The physician gave the babe to another and rushed to the nineteen-year-old beauty's side. He hung his head in sorrow as he took in the lifeless royal. A sigh of displeasure rose from his aged figure and yet it was also a sigh of relief. He knew that if she'd not died birthing the child than she would have died in the garrison. Her child had been a girl and that was not what the King wanted.
The babe was wrapped in a thick blanket, which Evette had woven herself, and taken to the King. "Your daughter," the handmaiden said as she held out the young, wrinkly Princess.
King Richard stared down on the squalling infant and scowled. He gave her a name, but nothing else; even that he felt was more than she deserved. Evelyn was placed in the care of one of the wet nurses in the village. She was forgotten by her father and he married another woman and then another. No sons were born to King Richard and when he was finally laid to rest, young Evelyn was eighteen and had lived a peasant's life with little formal education.
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Evelyn heard the smashing of twigs and branches while she sliced at the stem of a thick and well grown mushroom. She sighed, shaking her head in annoyance as she thought of all the harvest her friend was killing. When Cedric's feet finally came into view, Evelyn glanced up and stared into his eyes. Before she could offer him a greeting, he was on his knees gripping her arms. "Evie, you must come quickly!"
Her face contorted in a mask of confusion. "Cedric. What is it?" she asked, pulling herself free from his hold and rising. As she did she grabbed the strap of her carrying basket and hung it over her left shoulder.
"Evie, the King's dead. It's been announced. Did you not hear the bells?" Cedric asked. His face was pale and his blue eyes wide with excitement. "You are wanted at the castle. Immediately. Chancellor Benedict sent me to find you." He then looked up at the tree tops and shouted. "All of you!"
Immediately the woods seemed to come alive as three bodies emerged from somewhere inside the forest. One came down from a tree; two others moved from behind some brush. Evie frowned at the three guards. She'd never come face to face with them in all her eighteen years, but she had always been aware of them. Her foster family had told her they were her father's men, the King's loyal guards, put there by the Chancellor for Evie's protection.
When she was old enough to understand the reason behind having her own personal set of warriors, she began to speak to them. In time, though, she stopped, for not once did they ever answer her. They had always been there though, so Evie never feared for her safety. It was surreal to gaze upon the three faces for the first time, yet she wasn't allowed the luxury of feeding her curiosity before Cedric was violently shaking her.
"Evelyn!" he shouted, eventually bringing her back to the reality of the situation. It was only then that she realized she'd been staring mindlessly at the men who were standing next to her as if their appearance were common practice.
"What!" she yelled back, jerking away and pushing past her friend. "So he's finally dead, huh? And now I'm needed?" she hissed as she plodded her way back through the woods. "Well, perhaps I don't want to go."
Cedric ran up to her and grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop and pulling her toward him. "Not go?" His voice as well as the slackness of his jaw showed his shock. "You have to. You're the Queen now, Evie. The Queen!"
Evelyn shrugged her shoulders and again freed herself from her friend's deathlike grip. "And what of it? Do you think I want to be Queen? Do you see me in all the finery that they will dress me up in? The stains on my knees and the dirt under my nails . . . Do Queens wear these to court now as powders to further enhance their beauty?" She glanced at the three men that followed behind them. "Do Queens relieve themselves in the eyes of their men?"
The three guards blanched and looked away. Evelyn glared and turned back, taking a well worn path to the village. She had stopped complaining a long time ago about her privacy being violated. She'd gone to her foster mother and begged her to send word to her father that the men in his charge were violating her with leers while she went through her morning absolutions. Each time however, Evelyn was told that no one was allowed to speak to the King about her unless it was to proclaim her in dire trouble or dead. Neither thing ever occurred since the men were true to their word and kept a strong vigil on the monarchy's only heir.
By the time Evelyn reached the edge of the village, her temper was short and her face flushed. She felt the eyes of her neighbors and friends on her as she made her way to her foster home. Cedric still followed, as did the guards. Her friend constantly pleaded with her to return to the castle with him. When she reached the threshold of the small cottage where she'd grown up, her mother was there, or at least it was the title she'd given the woman. "Is it true?" she asked. Her face searched for some sign that would speak against the words that had fallen from Cedric's lips.
"Evie," Sarah's soft voice reached into the sorrow that was filling Evelyn's mind. "Indeed your Father has passed. It is time. You must go and do your duty."
Evelyn's lower lip trembled as tears fell from her hazel eyes. The wet streams made a path down her dirty cheeks and her face grew blotchy. She caught the lump in her throat and swallowed it down. "I don't want to go," she whispered, feeling as if her heart were caught in the grip of some giant's fist. She looked to Cedric and then her Father's men before gazing back at Sarah.
"I'm sorry, Evie. I've tried very hard to prepare you for this moment. We knew it was coming. It was just a matter of time." Sarah reached out and Evelyn willingly went into her arms. The larger woman held her close, pulling her face to her shoulder, where Evelyn sobbed.
"Evie," Cedric whispered. His hand came to rest on her shoulder. "You need to go. Benedict insisted and already we've wasted too much time. You weren't supposed to come here. I was supposed to bring you to him directly."
Evelyn stiffened and pulled from her mother's warm embrace. "Then let's go," she hissed back. Her anger was evident as was her pain. She felt Sarah's hand on her cheek and pressed her wet features into it. "I'll return," she told her before turning away. She felt Sarah's eyes on her as she walked toward the three guards and followed them to a corral where several village mares were fenced in. The future Queen of Vix chose a dapple beast and waved off any assistance from Cedric or the guards. She looped a rope bridle over the speckled nose and then patted its soft cheek. "Ready, Brilliant?" she asked, and then kissed the animal's warm face.