Bridget sat anxiously in her chair on her bedroom balcony as she stared at the sea, still unable to shake her nerves from her earlier scare. She had insisted some years ago that she have a room with an ocean view, but now that view seemed haunting. Even now, she could feel a strange pull calling her, luring her to come and embrace the waves. That feeling unsettled her even more now. All the questions swirling in her head, and not an answer to be found. Where did that voice come from? What did it mean? Why do I feel the ocean? She began to recall the words she had heard in the storage room and realized she was starting to forget them. With a heavy sigh, she rose and marched to her vanity to write down the song as best she remembered.
Her room was one of the more spacious in the palace, easily able to fit her large canopy bed, vanity, needlessly large wardrobe, incredibly plush couch, various pieces of art both of her own make and from other artists as well, and numerous chairs that lined the walls. A large white rug extended from under the bed to the center of the room. The part of the floor that could be seen was tiled with white and varying shades of blue. Candles had already been lit and were filling the room with their soft yellow light as the setting sun turned crimson.
Bridget settled herself and pulled out some paper along with ink and pen. She had no sooner laid out her materials than she heard a voice call from behind her. “Are you all right, Bridget?” Bridget spun sharply, and realized she had forgotten that Zoe had been sitting in her room the whole time, a fact made all the more poignant because Zoe was one of the hardest people to overlook; her fire red hair was enough to set her apart from just about everyone else, and made her terribly easy to pick out in crowds. She wasn’t that tall, but she seemed to always be a few inches taller than she should be, as if she were constantly walking on her toes.
“I’m fine, Zoe.” She protested. “I just need to write some things down.” Zoe seemed to relax a bit, but she still laid her hands purposefully on her thighs, ready to move and react at a moment's notice. She brushed off the folds of her apron skirt and studied Bridget for a hard minute, soft amber eyes looking her over. It was the eyes that really set Zoe apart from the rest of the servants. They didn’t look particularly threatening, her smile usually shone in her eyes long before it ever appeared on her lips, but sometimes, they could turn hard and fierce, even unrelenting, like a wolf protecting her pups.
“If you’re sure.” She finally relented. She adjusted her two braids to lay in front of her shoulders, crossed her legs, folded her arms across her chest, and silently watched. Bridget sighed in exasperation, but just turned back to her paper. She struggled to recall all the words, but slowly made them appear on the paper after scratching out whole lines more than a few times. She had just finished drying the ink when Zoe suddenly appeared, peering over her shoulder and making Bridget jump in her chair a bit.
“Do you often write poetry on your birthday?” Zoe asked, more than a little sarcasm creeping into her tone.
“No. You know I’m not a good poet.” She replied flatly.
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Zoe snatched up the paper and held it up to the light. “Could have fooled me. Seems as good as any other poem I’ve heard.”
“It’s not even a poem; it’s a song.”
Zoe perked, almost giddy. “Really?! Sing it! How does it go?” She shoved the paper into Bridget’s chest, and held a smile so broad it consumed every other feature on her face.
Bridget found herself taken aback at her friend’s eagerness. “I don’t remember how it goes.” she said, half-lying.
“Then make something up. Here, I’ll go first.”
She sang out a ridiculous version of “Lighthouse Yonder” that didn’t fit the cadence of the words very neatly, often jumbling extra syllables to keep the beat. Bridget found herself chuckling and the tension slowly started to lift from her. Exhaustion she didn’t know she had been feeling also seemed to get up and dance to the melody and broken lyrics. She smirked and joined in the fun, starting a new tune, “Beyond the waves.” The faster tempo made it even harder to squeeze in all the words.
The two laughed and sang until they both finally felt at ease.
“So, what do you think your dad would say if you showed him your new ‘talent,’ hm?” Zoe teased.
“Oh, you know him,” she puffed out her chest and raised her right hand in an exasperated motion. “We can just buy good poetry; not a good use of a princess’ time.” She made sure to over-do the inflection on just the right words to sound pompous but still sound like her father.
“I bet Harry would love your new ‘gift.’ Especially since he sounds like a babbling drunk any time he tries to talk to you.” Bridget blushed furiously at that, and Zoe couldn’t help but cock a wry smile.
“I’m sure he doesn’t feel that way.” Bridget protested. “He takes his job far too seriously.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Zoe said, still grinning. “It’s like you’re any better. You used to turn away blushing the moment you made eye contact with him.”
“I was hoping I was being more discreet than that.” She said, almost muttering.
“Ha! If your father spent even a fraction of the time actually listening to you that he does to diplomats, even he would know. Besides, even if you were more discreet, Harry isn’t; he isn’t very good about hiding his feelings. The boy has as much subtlety as this palace.”
“I’m not sure that makes any sense.”
“Stop analyzing my joke! It was funny.” Zoe protested, fighting back bouts of laughter.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and Zoe rose to answer.
“Silver coin says it’s your knight in shining armor.” Zoe continued to tease.
Bridget smiled at her and raised two fingers to indicate she doubled the wager.
A petite serving girl entered through the door. She wore the same white dress and brown apron that Zoe had on, as all the castle servants did, but her dark hair and skin made the outfit seem unnaturally bright.
Zoe frowned as she watched the little girl enter. “Damn it, Krista. Why did it have to be you?”
Krista flashed a hot scowl at her, but then focused back on Bridget. “Your Highness, the king has requested that you finish the preparations for your party.”
“And by that he means ‘I’m far too busy being a manly man doing manly things than to prepare a party!’” Zoe mocked, her accent purposefully disgraceful. Krista’s mouth gaped, but Bridget couldn’t help but laugh.
“Remind me to cut out your tongue later and serve it to him as payment for your awful gambling.” Bridget said. Zoe rolled her eyes, fished out two silver coins and tossed them at the princess.