December 29, 2006
Your Highness,
I write in celebration of your birthday, though it seems the kingdom doesn't celebrate it as it does your sister's. I must confess, I don't understand why. I have no right to pry into royal matters, but my curiosity has overtaken my better judgment. Who are you? Why are you hidden away? Forgive me for the intrusion, if it is unwelcome. I require no answer at all.
Long-Life, Yuri
____
The princess started to cry. There was a knock on her door, then it opened.
"Princess?" a servant in his early thirties entered. He paused, taken aback by her tears.
"Yes?" she stifled her sobs, quickly wiping her face. "What's your name?" she asked, voice hoarse.
"Alexander," he dipped his head cordially. "Alexander Goulding."
The girl was still holding the letter. Suddenly, she was embarrassed and tried to hide it.
"I was the servant who delivered the letter. You do not receive those often," he spoke normally.
The girl looked down at the letter in her hands, suddenly self-conscious. "Did you deliver this?"
Alexander nodded. "I don't screen many letters. But the boy who brought it—Yuri, I think—seemed sincere. He's about your age."
For the first time, someone spoke to her as if she was more than a ghost haunting the castle. She wasn't sure how to respond.
"The king has spoken very poorly of your habits. You are a hermit within the royal family. He fears you are insane, but you seem very pleasant to me," Alexander observed. "Dare I say, I enjoy your presence more than your sister's."
Pleasant, as if that word could ever redeem the depths of her solitude. But there was a kindness in his voice, a rare gentleness.
"Do you stay in here for any particular reason?" Alexander asked, his tone soft but curious.
"Would you mind if I was honest with you?" the girl asked. "Even if it seemed impossible?"
He hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "I suppose, my princess."
"Tomorrow, I'll come down to eat dinner with my family. Be near enough to see their reactions. Allow me to arrive unexpectedly."
Alexander's expression flickered with uncertainty, but he didn't object.
The next night, she slipped through the halls and long corridors and spiral stairwells she had crawled through as a small child. They were unfamiliar to her and instilled wonder in her. The tall ceilings and sweeping tapestries loomed over her with austere oppression, yet the stonework was beautiful. She envied those who would chance to really live here.
When she entered the banquet hall, conversation halted. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she approached the long table, her eyes lowered, face set in a mask of indifference. She sat without a word, folding her hands in her lap as the tension in the room grew thick, like a gathering storm.
"So, the princess has decided to bless us with her presence," one of the other princesses—her sister, though she barely recognized her—sneered. "I thought the royal family was beneath you."
"She is just that way," the king's voice rumbled from the head of the table. His gaze was cold, dismissive. "If she wishes to live her life as miserable and alone as possible, she will never have it any other way. My only regret is bringing her into the world at all if she brings nothing but pain and grief."
It didn't take long for the tension to erupt. A servant was too slow to bring the spices, and that was all it took. Tempers flared, and soon, the room was filled with shouting. Accusations flew over trivialities, but the girl knew better. She was the spark, the unseen force that always seemed to drive her family to madness.
Throughout the chaos, she sat quietly, only once breaking her silence to ask, "May someone pass the milk?"
The king's fury reached its peak, and he growled, throwing her glass at her head. When he missed, he stormed out, spewing threats and insults. Slowly, the rest of the family dipped out, until only she and Alexander remained in the now-empty hall.
Alexander stood at the edge of the room, watching her with something like pity in his eyes. She met his gaze and held it for a long moment, communicating without words what neither of them could say aloud. Then, without a word, she rose and returned to her tower, untouched food left behind.