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Confusion pokes at my already aching head. “You need to explain, Sir Victor. I feel that you are making me the butt of a very intricate joke.”
He goes into the story without hesitation. “Your mother was the blood-born queen of Timberness, the only child of King Girard of House Starling of Timberness and Queen Isabel of Veilbrook. Upon King Girard’s death, your mother was crowned as the ruling queen because Queen Isabel was queen by marriage only. At the time your mother was crowned the new queen, she was madly in love with a knight and powerful mage, Sir Waylen, and her father was supposed to betroth them because Waylen was not royalty, no matter his magical prowess. Waylen had also recognized the magic your mother possessed. He taught her how to use her powers, and she was considered the most powerful queen Timberness had ever known. When the king fell ill, he had no time to formally announce the betrothal of Sir Waylen and the young queen before his passing.
“However, this was of no real consequence to the new queen. Now that she was the rightful heir and sole ruler, she was going to simply choose her own husband and disregard the traditions of the hierarchy. And Queen Isabel, the former queen and new queen mother, was in full support of their union. But the queen mother was unaware of a treaty the king had signed when their daughter was a child, promising her hand to Prince Urich of Enverness.
“When Prince Urich came calling, the new queen told him of her love for Sir Waylen, and how she was going to break tradition. The prince was furious. He vowed that only the king could undo what was signed by his hand, and she was of no authority to undo a betrothal that had already been forged and a dowry long since paid. His persistence was rewarded with a trial, and the high council decided that the queen’s marriage would be decided by a feat of strength. A joust was held between Prince Urich and Sir Waylen. To even the odds, Sir Waylen was not allowed to use his magic—”
“But you said I am the daughter of Sir Waylen,” I blurt. “How can that be when King Urich is the king of Timberness?”
“It is indeed true that Prince Urich won the joust, much to the horror of your mother. She had to watch her beloved Sir Waylen bested and killed by Urich. But the prince was unaware that Waylen had already bedded the queen. You were snug in her belly when that joust took place, my dear. It was then that the queen confided to Prince Urich that she was already pregnant with her lover’s child. Prince Urich believed her a liar, until the midwife confirmed it. The queen thought surely this would free her from a marriage to Prince Urich, and even if it hadn’t, she was going to find a way to use her magic to free herself from Urich once and for all. But it was not to be. The high council had ordered that the winner of the joust would marry the queen and be the new king consort, and so it was decreed. The wedding and coronation of the new king consort of Timberness, Urich of Enverness, took place that very evening.
“In their bed chambers on their wedding night, the queen attempted to place a spell on Urich now that she had him alone, but Urich was wise to her. He’d had a wizard of his own place a shield spell on him, and the queen’s magic took no hold on his mind or flesh. However, it did soundly infuriate the new king consort. Urich taking his proof of her spellcasting to the high counsel had your mother deemed unfit to be sole ruler of Timberness, and he was then named king. The new king punished the queen by saying she could not keep a bastard child. He promised a swift death upon your arrival unless she was willing to give you up. So, the queen asked her own mother—your maternal grandmother—to take you to the village and raise you as her own. The queen mother agreed to be your guardian for as long as there was breath in her bones, and she vowed to never return to the palace. So, on the day you were born, your grandmother, the former Queen Isabel, drastically altered her appearance to blend in with the commoners and so as not to be recognized. She took you, a full coin pouch, and a few meager belongings into the market square area of Timberness to start a new life—one in which you would be safe from King Urich’s treachery. Everyone in court was told that the queen mother died of the pox and that you were stillborn, but my father knew better. He was King Urich’s royal advisor and captain of the royal guards. He was sworn to keep the king’s secrets, and he never spoke a word of his treachery while he drew breath. But he kept a journal. And upon my father’s death, upon his request, I read it. That is how I am able to tell you of these events. My father was duty-bound to keep King Urich’s secrets in his life, but death held the power to loose his tongue.”
I try to stand, and Sir Victor assists me. It is hard to hear of the evils, hard to fully grasp what my mother and Gram went through. And as much as I want to believe that everything Victor just told me is true, one question pricks my brain like a hot needle.
“Sir Victor, I have always been taught that the queen’s name was Millicent and that she died of a failing heart.”
“It was,” he replies. “And she did. She sat in the watch tower for hours, trying to catch glimpses of you and her mother. She was stripped of her magic on the threat of harm coming to you. She lived with a shattered heart until it was no longer able to beat.”
My shoulders drop along with my hopes. “Then you have been following the wrong maiden. She is not my mother. My gram told me my mother’s name, and it was not Millicent.”
He steps in front of me. “Well, she was known by an affectionate nickname by those who loved her most. Those the closest to the queen called her Willow, like the mage fairy in children’s stories.”
A sob tears through me and I fall into Sir Victor’s chest, clinging to him before I realize what I’m doing. Every drop of relief is surging through my veins. I have a lineage, a bloodline, something to call my own, no matter how much turmoil has befallen my family. I am whole, important.
Validated.
But when I think about what my gram sacrificed, what she gave up for so many years to raise me and watch me grow, I can barely comprehend it.
Gram was the queen.
Then the queen mother.
And she gave it all up.
Forme.
So many emotions are coursing through my body, I need time to process all that Sir Victor has revealed. I have to get out of this hayloft, get back to the cottage. I need to think.
“Sir Victor, I need to return to my home. I have more questions for you, but I need to clear my head. Will you meet me at my home later? I’m sure you know where it is, considering you’ve been following me.”
“I will admit, I know of your cottage, my lady,” he replies. “And I will be there at the witching hour.” He reaches into a bundle of hay and pulls out a leather-bound book. He holds it out in front of me. “This is my father’s journal. Take it with you. Read it for yourself, I beseech you.”
I clasp the book and choke back tears. The beauty and pain of what I am holding is not lost on me. My entire existence is in my hands, and I’m consumed, overwhelmed…and grateful.
“Be discreet when you arrive at my cottage,” I remind Sir Victor. “Avoid patrol and the guards.”
“I am nimble,” he says. “I will not be detected. And be sure to heed your own advice, mistress. And take this.” Sir Victor retrieves the blanket from the straw and wraps it around my shoulders. “It’s bitterly cold outside. You’ll appreciate the extra layer.”
“Thank you, good sir. I will see you soon.”
I tuck the journal under one arm and climb down from the hayloft. I start out across the farmer’s fields, questions flooding my brain and rejuvenation filling my heart. There is still much I need to know, and I will learn it all. I take the streets I know are seldom patrolled once I’m closer to market square as to avoid any confrontation.
One phrase keeps sounding in my head.
I am the princess.
Me.
