Bridget stood on the outside of the throne room doors. Beyond them was her father, whom she could hear arguing with his court. Whatever was being discussed was important enough to get both her father’s ire and her mother’s opinion. So Bridget stood in silence for a time, listening to the muffled voices and waiting for a good opportunity to enter. The sentries posted outside the door stood erect and non-chalant, but she could feel their unease by her continued presence.
Her father’s cadence started to slow and Bridget knew that the topic at hand was just about resolved. She took a deep breath to steel herself before finally pushing the door open. Although Castle Sirene was built with functionality as its primary concern, the more recent monarchs had taken many steps to beautify the rooms that were used most. The throne room was probably the most ostentatious in the entire castle. A large gold chandelier with diamonds and sapphires hung from the lofty ceiling and sparkled every sunrise. Now that it was close to sunset, the gems glowed with torch light, but no longer seemed to sparkle, as if they had fallen asleep and could not be woken in spite of the bustle of life through the rest of the room. The walls were similarly ornate with large candelabra, her family crest depicting the guiding sun over the ocean sat embedded in tapestry hung throughout the room. Fine vases filled with fresh cut flowers were scattered along the walls.
Bridget strode with purpose down the rug that led up to the throne, taking large steps and abandoning her more stately posture in favor of strength: head held high, hands held to her side, and large steps which demanded attention to her movement. “Your Majesty,” she addressed him, “I have a matter which demands your attention.”
The king’s eyes narrowed and he sat up a little straighter in his throne. He took note of her posture, studying her and looking her over. There was a long pause where no one in the court dared to even move, except for the king who pulled at his beard contemplatively. “You may speak freely. Tell me what is the matter.”
Bridget was tempted to relax at being granted permission to speak her mind, but she knew better than to let her guard down while the king was judging her. “Father, I do not feel like my training in the court has been sufficient. I wish to sit with the court for the next month to observe and further my studies.”
The low murmur of the court sounded like a dragon’s roar to Bridget. She shoved them out of her mind and focused her attention on the king and on keeping her body from trembling with fear. The king answered, “We will speak of this later.”
“No! We will speak now.” What am I doing? Why am I saying that now? What if I just offended him?
The king wore a sullen frown, then it softened as he let out a long sigh. “Very well.” Bridget could hardly believe her ears. Did he just agree? Is he going to scold me in front of everyone? Why… “Everyone, leave us be. We’ll meet again tomorrow after the festivities.”
Fear flushed over Bridget like a wave crashing over the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm. Normally if they were to speak privately they would retire to his own personal quarters, or at least meet up with her later in her own room. To make a scene in front of the court like this could only mean trouble for her. One by one, all the officials passed her and made their way out of the throne room. Her mother stopped briefly and flashed a faint smile before she too left the room until all that remained was Bridget and the king.
When the doors finally shut with a solid thud, the king stood up from his throne and walked down the steps to stand level with his daughter. “Are you sure about this?” he said, a touch of sadness staining the words.
The words weren’t what caught Bridget off guard, but rather the sincerity behind them. She had prepared herself for defiance, even anger, but the soft disappointment took her breath from her throat and replaced them with a solid lump. She swallowed hard and finally managed to say, “I don’t understand.”
“Please, come with me. I want to show you while I explain.” He turned and headed toward the back doors that led into the king’s quarters. Bridget followed him, apprehension making every step an effort. “It’s a shame I have to share this with you on your birthday of all days. But if you are serious about joining the court, you need to know our secrets.”
“What do you mean? We don’t keep secrets in Sirene. Don’t we believe in honesty and accountability to the people?”
“Of course we do, that’s how we keep the people happy and prosperous. That being said, there are many things that they are better off not knowing.” He paused and turned his attention to finding something buried in the chest at the foot of his bed. The king’s quarters were surprisingly plain, especially when compared to the throne room that they had just left. The walls were mostly undecorated, save for a few pieces of art that the queen had insisted they buy. The bed was soft and grand, but lacked any color or embroideries. The only notable part of the room was the large glass doors in the back that led out onto the balcony.
“Here we are.” the king said softly, drawing Bridget’s attention from the room back to her father. “Come, sit with me.” He moved over to a couch next to the bed that faced the glass doors. Bridget followed and took a long look at the book in his hands. It was hardbound and large, and very old. “This book is the book of the kings. It contains a genealogy of every king of Sirene since its inception.”
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Bridget sat puzzled for a bit as she looked at some of the pages of the book. “I don’t understand. This doesn’t look anything like our genealogy records” she said.
“That’s because we aren’t the only line of kings” he said. Bridget’s mouth hung open a little and her eyes widened as she looked up sharply at her father. “Peace, Bridget.” he continued, “Let me explain. We of the people of Sirene value freedom more than any other virtue. In fact, this was the main reason for our separation from Meja. Anyways, you know how your distant uncle is and rules, very strict and rigid; your ancestor, brother to the king of Meja, convinced the king that the unrest in the east would never cease with their current laws. So they came to an agreement that the east would be governed by a man that the king trusted, and so Sirene began, first as a vassal state, and later as an equal partner to Meja as a fully independent kingdom.” Bridget nodded her understanding knowing that he hadn’t said anything yet she hadn’t already known. “However, the first king believed no one should be pressed into anything against his will, or at least without his consent. So, during his first few years establishing Sirene, he set up a noble house and gave them charge to be dual heirs to the throne of Sirene.”
“What do you mean, dual heirs?”
“Simple, if the reigning family had no willing heir to take up the throne, then the next regent would be chosen from the second family.”
“Willing heir?” Bridget asked, stressing the word as if she couldn’t fully understand what that implied.
Her father sighed, and then leaned back into a very relaxed slouch that seemed to go very much against the regal nature of the man. When he was ready to speak again, his tone was far more solemn than before. “Bridget, my dear daughter,” he began, “it was my wish that you would abdicate your position as heir and live a life outside the castle.”
Bridget’s voice caught in her throat as she gave a gentle gasp at what her father said. Abdicate? Leave the castle? How could he even say such a thing? Where would she go? What would she do? Who could she be if she wasn’t the princess of Sirene? She felt a little nauseous, but forced herself to swallow and clear her throat. “Why would you want me to not be queen?”
Her father frowned for a moment, then his eyes became hard and his voice firm, “Are you prepared to bear the guilt of people who die in your care because a famine claimed their crops and livestock? Can you handle the mounting pressure of the outside kingdoms as they try to control the ports we have here? Are you prepared to be a leader when war comes knocking on your door?” His voice was level, but the message conveyed in them was harsh and clear. Bridget lowered her head and tears began to streak her face. The king sat up and pulled his daughter close once more.
“The world is not a peaceful place right now, Bridget.” the king continued, “Sunan has been demanding lower tariffs on their goods sold here; Durvinna shipments have all but disappeared; fishing ships are being lost along the southern sea with no survivors recovered.” Bridget looked up and saw that her father was very distant. He gazed off into an unknown land, a place in the future. Suddenly, he seemed to snap back to focus on her face. “I wouldn’t want anyone to face such horrors, but least of all you.” Bridget flushed a little, and couldn’t decide if it was in anger or fear. She may not be the best regent, but she was ready to do what she could. At least, that’s what she told herself. Am I truly capable?
“You don’t have to decide anything right now.” the king said, to break up the silence that was quickly filling the room. “But do give it some thought. I know that Prince Varun has tried to court you on many occasions. If you were to be queen, I would hope that you would not ally yourself with them like that. We’ve worked long and hard to maintain our freedom, and they would surely rob us of all that we have built here.” Bridget paled just a little at the thought of a political marriage. Prince Varun had at least always treated her with kindness and affection, but he wasn’t anything like Harry and he certainly didn’t think much about what was good for Sirene, or anyone that wasn’t himself. Her father cut in, “You could also just leave and go be with the blacksmith.”
Bridget’s eyes practically bulged out of her skull and she began to tremble, dropping the book of the kings to the floor. She wanted to run, flee, get away from the realization that her father knew how she felt. She tried to stand, but her legs would not move. Nothing was in her control. Her heart pounded and her breathing grew shallow and rapid. A soft roar of laughter stopped Bridget from falling into panic as she looked up to see her father was the one laughing. She came back to her senses just enough to feel her anger in her face and fists. “What’s so funny?” She demanded. There was more venom on the words than she was hoping would show.
“My dear, I thought you knew. Everyone knows how you two look at each other. It was so obvious, I didn’t think you were even trying to hide it.” He continued to laugh, although now it was down to a small chuckle. “He’s a good man; brash and bull-headed, and I wonder how well he would be able to provide for you, but a man of outstanding character. It’s why I let him stay as your bodyguard all these years.” He gave her a solid thump on the back, breaking her out of the last of her fear stricken trance. “You could certainly do much worse than him.”
Bridget stared hard at her father incredulously but didn’t fight him any further. Instead she looked down again and imagined actually being able to be with Harry without the worry of hiding or upsetting her family. She drifted back into her imagined home, simple and cozy with Harry holding their son, only now she also saw her parents there, a little granddaughter in her father’s arms, swinging her back and forth as she laughed in delight. She imagined her mother making dinner with her as they watched the men play with the kids. It all seemed so complete. So why did she feel so haunted by it?
Her father coughed lightly to get her attention back, “Well, I think it’s time to go down to the party. Try to have a little fun tonight, would you?” He said, and got up and walked to the door. She got up to follow and he opened the door to usher her out back into the throne room. She gave him one more solid embrace. “Dad,” She said, “Thank you. I love you.”
He returned the hug with one strong arm. “I love you too. Now, let’s go and enjoy your birthday properly.” He escorted her out into the hall and Bridget could feel herself standing a little taller. It was her choice, she could leave if she wanted, and she could rule if she so chose. For once, she felt like her life was her own and now she had the courage to do what she deemed right. So she walked with a pep in every step to go find Harry, excited for what the future would bring.