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Protego looked challenged. “If you allow me, I can definitely surprise you.” One of his dark eyebrow raised suggestively.
Primrose blushed before she changed the subject. “Cake is a delicacy! Let’s make one,” Primrose beamed with enthusiasm as she took Protego by the hand and led him back into the castle. He held her grip firm, and Primrose blushed as they crossed through corridor after corridor until reaching the large kitchen. Servants bustled around, chit-chatting as they cleaned up from breakfast.
“Everyone has the rest of the day off! Go visit your families, relax, do something for yourself!” Primrose ordered. Putting everything down, everyone exited the kitchen until only Primrose and Protego remained.
“What can I do?”
“Check the cooler for ingredients,” Primrose said, letting go of his hand and walking towards a cabinet. As she looked through the shelves, Protego stood next to her, contemplative.
“Cooler?” He questioned.
“Sorry! The metal box. It should be cold when you open it. See what sort of things we have in there.”
“That’s so interesting. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Protego stated, opening the door. “It feels… magical.”
“I think it is. It was a gift to my mother, The Duchess, from the Queen of South-Terra. All the royal families of Mid-Terra received one; they’re common now.”
“There are some lemons in here,” Protego informed her.
“Perfect. We’ll make a lemon cake. Peel off the top layer into small sections, please.”
“On it,” Protego said confidently. “What’s the state of things in Terra now? It’s been a proper thirty or forty years since I last visited.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Primrose replied, breaking some eggs.
“Politically.”
“Well, uh,” Primrose considered the question. “The summarized version of the last thirty years is that North-Terra colonized West-Terra but failed to do the same with South-Terra.”
Protego placed the lemon peels into a small bowl. “And what of Mid and East? And the Desert Isles?”
“Queen Wilhelmina of Winterhurst….”
“The Northern Queen?” Protego interrupted.
“Yes. Mid-Terra chose to ally but has been controlled through manipulation tactics ever since. She hasn’t begun her attempts to conquer East-Terra yet; she’s afraid war will be imminent if she does so. I’ve heard whispers from my parents that our people are rallying against the North and will force our queen to declare war. We’ll see.”
“It seems the realm is just as much of a shit show now as when I was here last.”
“Unfortunately, you’re correct. The Desert Isles remain unscathed. They won’t allow anyone to enter the islands, and they’ve ceased communication with all other continents. They claim they’re doing it to stay neutral, but we all know they secretly ally with East-Terra.”
Protego handed her the bowl before picking up the large container of flour that sat at their feet. “Is that why your family locked you up?”
“No, no. We’re only in charge of a small village. Nobody will hold me ransom for political gain; it wouldn’t work. We’re well off, but we aren’t the royal family,” Primrose replied, whipping the concoction as she spoke.
“I can’t comprehend why else they would prevent you from enjoying the last few years of your adolescence and even into early adulthood.” Protego squeezed the lemon juice into the bowl.
“The castle used to be buzzing. Servants, guards, and groundskeepers. Quadruple the amount we have now,” Primrose explained. “One guard, in particular, was always overly cautious with me. If I went anywhere, he followed. I walked around town for years with him by my side. I saw him as…an older brother. My father trusted him with my life, the guard being one of North-Terra’s finest cadets.”
Primrose’s muscles shook with unease as she continued working the dough. “One day we went into town, and I don’t know what got into him but….” Primrose gulped, breathing heavily. “He told me he loved me and he wanted to be with me, but when I said no, he…hurt me anyway.” Protego nodded with understanding, empathy filling his gaze.
Primrose inhaled deeply. “I told my dad, and they removed him. My dad nearly killed him, screaming about how he took his baby girl’s purity, requesting he be castrated and imprisoned, but that never happened. Last I heard, he still works in North-Terra, but our queen banished him from Mid-Terra. Since then, I stopped having guards, and we only keep a few servants and groundskeepers now. But with that came a lot of my freedom.”
“I cannot fathom how you must feel. I’m so sorry,” Protego exclaimed sincerely. “The queen’s a bitch; he should have been executed. I would never willingly let anyone hurt you, I wish I could turn back time and stop him.”
They locked eyes, and Primrose started to tear up, giving a small smile.
“He’ll be tortured for an eternity,” Protego proclaimed, anger hot on his breath.
