The sun sparkled off the pond, giving the illusion of warmth when as far as she could see, snow covered the landscape. She wished that she could go out and play in it but her father had said that it was impossible. She stamped her feet and roared at him, but he didn’t budge from his decision. What was worse, he didn’t say why she couldn’t go out. She had been cooped up in the castle for nearly ten months and with Christmas only three days away, she had not had an opportunity to visit the market and select gifts. Her father didn’t care.
Princess Rosebud couldn’t understand why she had been locked up in the Sister Estate like a prisoner. She figured that it was the least she would be able to do since the love of her life and the person she married had both died.
Oh, Velvet
. When she tried to remember what had happened that night, all she could recall was Roger grabbing her love and a bright-bladed knife swishing past her face, burying itself in her husband. Other than that, everything was a blur. When she awoke, Sir Gordie’s men had locked her in her room and the king had later broken the bad news to her.
My dear, Velvet is dead.
After all these months, the words still hurt and she did nothing to stop the tears from overflowing her hazel eyes and streaking her cheeks.
Why?
She asked.
Why did my Velvet have to die?
The princess went back to her windowless room and did as she had nearly every day – cried herself to sleep.
******
A knock awakened her a few hours later and she sat up, sleepily rubbed her eyes. Sir Gordie stood in the doorway, looking happier than she’d ever seen him.
“Good evening, princess. The king requests your company in the hall.”
She nodded and yawned, stretching as she swung her feet off the bed and took his arm. “I haven’t seen much of you, Gordie. How are the improvements going?”
“Swimmingly, your majesty. We expect to move you to the new wing this evening.”
“Wow, so soon?” She smiled. “Will I have a window? I’d like to be able to see Velvet’s grave.”
“That will be up to the king.”
King Simon sat at his usual place at the head of the table, his plump wife, Queen Rosamund, at his side. But instead of scowling over a sheaf of text or quaffing a mug of ale, he was bouncing a baby. A golden-haired baby that squealed in delight.
“Don’t shake him too much, Simon. He needs his brains for adulthood.”
“Oh, he’s fine, my darling.” He made a funny face and laughed. “Aren’t you, little Simon?”
King Simon and Queen Rosamund’s eyes met hers, then slid to the fourth member of the group, who was still wrapped in a heavy black cloak. The person stood and the cloak fell to the floor.
“V-Velvet?”
“Hello, “ Velvet bowed deeply. “My princess.”
Rosebud didn’t know who moved first but suddenly she was in Velvet’s arms, sobbing loudly as she pressed her ear to her lover’s heart. Velvet held her tightly, smoothing her hair and cooing words of love to her as the king, queen and seneschal looked on with smiles. “Oh, please don’t tell me this is a dream.”
“No, it’s not a dream, princess.” Velvet pulled back, gazing into the hazel eyes that he had missed so much. “I’m here.”
“But Gordie told me that you were dead!”