Rendezvous

The air in the kingdom of Siliam was always cold, yet on this day it carried an extra chill with the breeze. I watched evergreens slightly waver as mother nature’s invisible fingers caressed their branches. A tangerine glow peeked out from behind the mountains as the sun began to rise, teasing a bright hello to the birds and squirrels as they began their survival tasks for the day. Blue clouds rolled over the snow covered peaks creating contrast against the sunbeams. In the distance, a waterfall crashed into a stream allowing the droplets of water to cascade up from the ground and create a mist that almost appeared heavenly. A pure white stag at the bank of the stream twitched its ears, listening for predators before lapping up the crystal waters and turning back into the forest.

I drew in a deep breath and shut my eyes, smelling crisp wind and the soft scent of roses that scattered Siliam’s castle balcony. This was a view of my home that I had never witnessed before. Looking down at my hands, I writhed my fingers together in anticipation of the day ahead. My stomach tingled at the thought of becoming part of the royal family. I wasn’t born of royal or noble descent, in fact I had never even worn a dress a day in my life. Yet, today I was to be married to a prince that I had yet to meet. My entire existence consisted of dead end assistant jobs, taking care of my mother once she had fallen ill, and then fighting to survive in the streets once she had passed.

As the villages below began to stir, the memories of my arrival flooded back to me, drowning out the noise around me.

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I was starving and hadn’t eaten in three days, and the only consolation to my pain was the plain wooden cross at my mother’s burial site. The small memorial sat underneath a pear tree that had refused to produce pears for years. It stood tall with broad branches at the outskirts of the royal garden, and it was my favorite place to stay when I felt hopelessly alone. I was sprawled out on top of her grave, silently weeping into the dirt. I watched through blurry eyes as a small red lady bug wandered across the soil and climbed up onto the top of my index finger, settling itself on my nail. I strained to push myself up into a sitting position, admiring the small life that made me wipe my tears. I lifted my finger into the air, and watched as it’s wings spread open and fluttered up into the delicate pear blossoms. A husky voice startled me from my trance, and it didn’t sound pleased,

“Hey! You! Who are you? State your purpose for being so close to the royal garden!” One of Siliam’s castle knights was storming in my direction, and quickly too.

“I’m just passing through for a break. I was getting ready to attempt catching fish at the stream. I can leave,” I pointed towards the direction of the water and lied, but it was the only thought that came to mind.

He halted in front of my crossed legs and lifted the shield to his helmet while positioning his face only inches from mine. His breath teased at my eyelashes as he retorted,

“Do you think I’m a fool, peasant? I see you come out here often. You’re dirty, and a sore sight for the royal family. I’ve had enough of you being a nuisance to my job. Now tell me again what you’re doing here,” he straightened up and spit on the ground beside me, causing me to flinch.

I glanced over to my mothers cross, then looked down at my dirty black trousers and thought of my matted blonde hair. Tears welled in my eyes as I spoke,

“My name is Xena. Xena Farlow. My mother died, sir. She’s buried here. This is the only place I have left to go. My father died at war when she was pregnant. She is my home. I have nothing. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and all I want is some rest.”

He cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by my explanation,

“Excuse me for my incompetence. My queen notices you out here often. She’s grown tired of seeing you stick out against her roses without knowing who you are. I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Am I under arrest? I haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just here visiting the grave you so kindly spit on,” I had become irritated at his insults to me and his slobbery desecration of my deceased mother’s final resting place.

His voice grew softer at the tone of my own,

“No. But I have a job for you. Queen Meren may be abrasive at times, but she knows a struggling soul when she sees one. Come along. I don’t do small talk either, so don’t try,” with that he turned and picked up a brisk pace towards the castle’s side entrance. His sword clanged against his armor with each stride.

Confused, I weakly pushed myself up from my spot and leaned in to kiss the cross at the trunk of the tree. I turned and lethargically jogged to catch up with the knight. We walked silently for a short distance before stopping at a massive, black iron door. The gate guards must have been anticipating our arrival, because the sound of chains clanked as the door seemed to begin levitating. My heartbeat quickened inside my chest, and the back of my neck began to bead with sweat. The sound of metal clashing grew louder as the gate continued to rise. Impatient, the knight ducked under the door and beckoned me to follow him through.

Immediately I was hit with the scent of freshly baked bread, and roses. We walked through a short tunnel lit with coal torches, and I had to cover my eyes as the courtyard came into view. Knights scattered the grounds brandishing weapons of all shapes and sizes. Some of them were shirtless and covered in intricate tattoos, while others were clad in full armor. Pairs of the men swung their weapons at each other for combat practice, and for some odd reason I grew excited at the scene. Maids hurriedly skittered around the edges of the grounds, carrying wicker baskets full of laundry and goodies. Some of them tended to the knights, wiping sweat off of their bodies and offering refreshments for recovery.

I turned to the man who brought me into the castle and cleared my throat,

“Can I ask your name? I’d feel strange calling you sir for the remainder of my time here.”

He stood with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face as he watched the soldiers practice. Without looking at me he replied,

“My name is Lester. These are all my men, working hard. Sometimes hardly working, but that’s a story for another day. Let’s go find Queen Meren. She has good use for you. Do you know how to read and write?”

“Yes I do. My mother taught me at a young age long before she died. I worked a few jobs as a scribe throughout the kingdom but they never lasted long, or paid well for that matter,” I turned my eyes back to the knights who all seemed to be taking a break.

Lester looked at me and patted my shoulder, “Perfect. Follow me, miss Xena. When you meet the queen please bow for her highness.”

I nodded my head as I followed him to a set of stone steps that lined the side of the grounds walls. They were steep, and every time I looked down my toes tingled at the sheer height of the staircase. Once we plateaued at the top of the steps, we made a sharp left turn and stopped at a small wooden door lined with iron decor. Lester fumbled with a large set of keys and picked out a shiny gold one. He jiggled it into the lock and turned it. With one hand on the doorknob he swung it open and tilted his head to the side, motioning for me to go first. I held my breath and stepped into a huge open room.

Navy blue tapestries with Siliam’s rose emblem hung in front of massive stone columns that lined the walls. A long wooden table set with iron chairs was placed perfectly in the center of the room. I assumed this was for feasts, or perhaps military meetings amongst the commanders and Queen. At the far end of the room were the thrones. They were tall, and very intricately designed. The frames were made of polished silver that had thorny rose vines etched into the metal, and the cushions were deep blue velvet with white thread embedded into the seams. On one of the thrones, sat Queen Meren.

She was stunning. The dress she wore was pastel baby blue, and made with some of the finest silk I had ever seen. Her chocolate hair sat perched in tight braids under her crown, which glinted from the torch lights any time she moved. I could see her emerald eyes from where I stood, and it awed me how bright they were. I felt a sudden pain in my rib as Lester elbowed me and flitted to stand in front of her. I followed him, rubbing at the sore spot on my side. He knelt to the ground on one knee, and placed one fist on the floor with his head held low. I did the same to show my respects, and not get thrown in the dungeon.

“Your highness, you look as beautiful as ever. Allow me to introduce miss Xena Farlow. She is the one who sits near your roses,” he lifted his head and continued, “her mother’s gravesite lays underneath the pear tree.”

The queen’s eyes flickered with sorrow for a moment before she spoke,

“Rise child, let me see your face. I know the Farlow family, as they’ve been servants here before. Your mother was my nanny, before she had gone off to start a family of her own. You look just like her.”

A lump rose in my throat making it hard to respond, “Thank you, your highness. That means the world to me. She was all I had.”

“I understand you have nowhere to stay, and also that your mother taught you to read and write. For now, you will stay here in the castle and work as a scribe. Your job is to send letters to my son, Prince Alan. I miss my son, but I cannot read or write. My last scribe committed heinous crimes and was sentenced to death. I trust you as I did your mother. Please, get to know my son and give me updates. You will be paid handsomely, and be given your own room.” She smiled at me once she was finished describing my duties, and gave a slight nod to Lester.

He stood from his bow, “Allow me to show you to your room.”

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For weeks I wrote to the Prince. He told me of his battles and experiences in the mountains. I was responsible for reading military updates to the generals and officers in command back home. Alan seemed hardened and lonely for being my age. He was 23, but seemed very aged by his trials. Queen Meren loved to hear of his adventures, and explained to me how happy he must’ve been to receive word from the castle.

One day the queen had a letter in hand, and silently handed it to me to read. It wrote,

“Miss Xena Farlow. I would like you to be my queen. When I am home, rendezvous with me under the pear tree. I would like to ask your mother for permission, to be my wife.”