Page 3 of Forgotten Fate

Those three days were another missing piece of the puzzle I called my childhood. When I awoke the day after being found, I was safe within the stone walls of our castle, and my mother was dead.

Not only did I lose my mother and lose my memories, but I lost a piece of myself. Like something in my soul was supposed to be there, but it was ripped from me. And I couldn’t get it back.

Just before my mother’s death, she and I were on our way to Chatus, our closest neighboring kingdom, for an event. It was a dinner event…I think. All the kings and queens of the Four Kingdoms were to attend. My mother wanted to go a day early to spend time with Queen Lenora, a close friend of hers. I happily tagged along. My father was to meet us there the next morning, so he could attend to a kingly matter at home first. There was a territorial dispute between the Duke of Caelstone and the Duke of Terran, two of our cities. My father was to settle their dispute before a civil war broke out in ourown kingdom.

They say our carriage was ambushed by bandits. Our poor driver and the two guards with us also lost their lives. It must have been one hell of a group of bandits. All I remember is my mother grabbing my arm and us sprinting into the woods. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in the castle infirmary – weak and hungry, but alive. Unlike my mother.

“What were you doing in the library?” My father’s voice broke through my thoughts. One of the guards must have arrived just before us and told him where I had snuck off to.

“I just wanted to see what books they had,” I lied. I could never tell my father about my recurring dream. He was a straightforward, no-nonsense man. Knowing him, he’d tell me it was a coincidence and to move on, and to not bring it up a second time. I could practically hear him saying those very words.

“We have a library in the castle,” was his blunt reply.

“Our library has nothing but books on history,” I retorted. That wasn’t true either. There were books on gardening, architecture, and other material I found boring. “I wanted something that was actually fun to read,” the lie continued.

I saw my father’s shoulders relax. I walked up towards his throne. A small pillar topped with a bowl of apples stood between his throne and my own chair. I grabbed an apple and sat in my chair, a smaller version of my father’s throne. I often sat here during the King’s meetings, learning the ins and outs of nobility. I was the sole heir of Rimor, after all. I propped my feet up on the side of my throne and my father’s expression deepened. Clearly the elegance and class of being royalty escaped me as soon as no one was around, and it displeased him.

I didn’t care.

I stared at the small cracks in the stone pillar as I bit into my apple.The gray stone matched the color of my father’s beard. Losing the love of his life did not help him gracefully age this last decade. I turned my gaze towards him, finally making eye contact. His deep green eyes mirrored my own, the only thing I seemingly didn’t inherit from my mother. “You know the Rimor library is off limits,” he said in a deep, authoritative voice.

“And you won’t tell me why,” I countered. Another one of my father’s many secrets.

He stood up, which took me by surprise. His tall frame now towered over my not-so-lady-like position. “I have given you enough warnings, Aurelia,” he said, his domineering tone echoing in the large throne room. “You have been caught too many times escaping your escorts in the city.” If only he knew I also snuck out at night on occasion. I would be castle-bound for eternity. “If it happens again,” he continued, “I will be your escort myself.” The thought made my heart stop for a moment.

I quickly stood up to match his energy. “I don’t need seven guards, father.” I wanted him to understand the ridiculousness of it. “And I don’t need to be banned from the library, from the pubs, or from anywhere else. This is my kingdom too!” My voice got sharper and more exasperated. I could never get him to understand.

He paused, and I could recognize the emotion that reached his face. Sorrow. “There are forces out there that you will never understand, daughter. There are terrible people in this world. Some may be within the walls of our own kingdom. I cannot risk losing you.”

We have had this conversation many times before. The guilt would hit me like a punch in the gut every time. He lost his wife. His queen. His soulmate. I was all he had left. But I couldn’t take this way of life much longer. I had felt like a prisoner in my own home for far toolong.

I didn’t know what to say. I never do. “I could learn how to protect myself,” I muttered the thought. “Uncle Balor tried to teach me.”

The atmosphere instantly shifted. I quickly became uncomfortable again as my father’s features turned angry. I haven’t mentioned my uncle in quite some time. He was my father’s younger brother, and the only person who understood me after my mother’s death.

Balor was a master swordsman, and General of our armies. At the age of twelve, I begged my uncle to teach me how to fight. I wanted to learn how to protect myself. How to protect others. I did not want to end up like my mother.

When we asked my father, he became outraged. “Under no circumstances are you to teach her a damn thing,” my father barked at his only brother. I had never seen him so angry. “You know why,” he added. Those words had stuck with me, but my uncle Balor simply told me he could not elaborate.

After he cooled down, and with a lot of convincing, he agreed to let Balor give me history lessons once a month, and lessons on commanding Rimor’s armies. In reality, Balor was teaching me how to fight. Once a month he would give me an hour lesson in secret. He taught me how to use a sword, a dagger, and to fight hand-to-hand combat. I would spend the following weeks practicing alone in my room at night, eager for the next month’s lesson.

This went on for nearly three years. I became highly proficient, but nowhere near a master like my uncle. With the limited time he had to train me, it would probably take another three years to get to his mastery level.

Then, one awful day, my father barged into one of our lessons. And just like that, we were caught. In a rage, the King banished Balor from Rimor without a second thought. As an exile, my uncle was to never step foot in Rimor again, or face the punishment of death. The sentencing was so harsh, I didn’t speak to my father for six months.

“With the proper training,” I continued, “you wouldn’t have toworry about losing me. I could protect myself.” I didn’t think my father realized how long my lessons with Balor went on for. For all he knew, I only knew the basics.

He took a breath, as though he was trying to choose his next words wisely. “The answer is no,” he said tersely. Before I could form my rebuttal, he turned and walked down the stone steps beneath his throne. “I have business to attend to,” he spoke without looking back at me. “You are not to leave the castle for the rest of the week.”

I stood there in silence. I knew there was no point in arguing. I watched as he exited the main doors, passing the two guards posted just outside of them. I sat back down in my chair, dropped my partially eaten apple on the floor, and put my face in my hands. Minutes went by as I let the conversation replay in my mind. I then heard the creak of the large wooden doors again and looked up to see if my father had returned.

A petite, pale handmaiden shyly walked through the double doors. It was Rose. Her cloak was gone, and her dark brown hair was up in a braid. She did a good job of disguising herself when she met me at the library. Now, she most definitely looked the part of a handmaid. The guards watched her enter and kept the doors open. “Your majesty,” she spoke timidly. I smiled. She would never call me that if it weren’t for the guards watching us.

Excitement flushed through me. I had almost forgotten about the book. “Hello Rose,” I answered in my best regal voice. “Do you happen to still have my favorite comb? I can’t seem to remember where I placed it. I think you had it last.” No such comb existed.

“Of course, Princess,” Rose answered sweetly. “I can show you where I left it.” With her back to the guards, she gave me a wink. I held back a grin and descended the large stone steps towards her. So, she was able to sneak the book in after all. Time to look for some answers.

CHAPTER TWO