“Lord Aaron is right. I am the king’s son. I haven’t spent my life in peace, I’ve endured hardships. But his majesty has asked me to address you today, and to tell you what comes next.”
Address them? Why would Randal need to address anyone? His majesty. He’d said that. So this Prince Randal is my very own Randal?
My mind turned with the new information bombarding me, and all I knew was that I needed to see him, needed to see the man I loved. I turned left, and found myself in a great, vast hallway, lined with gleaming suits of armor affixed to the sandstone walls. In front of me was a huge hall, with cathedral-high ceilings, packed with women and men in the finest, most elegant clothes I had ever seen. All of their heads were turned to the man who stood before them, addressing them.
Randal.
I froze, with my jugs of milk in my hands, staring, trying to marry the image before me to the world that made sense. I knew him, but I didn’t know him. Not like this. The king’s son. How was that even possible? And if it was true, what did it mean for me? No prince would be allowed to marry a farmer’s daughter, so what was I to him? Just a bit of fun before he took up his rightful position as king? Which one of these ladies would be his wife, I wondered? Or would it be some princess from across the seas that brought him new wealth and new alliances?
“And so it is with deep regret that I stand here before you now, introduced to you as a prince, but in reality the man that will very soon be your king.”
The crowd gasped. All at once, every lord and lady fell to their knees before him. As they dropped in unison, I clapped my hands to my mouth, and the jugs of milk fell to the floor, shattering at my feet. I was shocked, stunned. The sight of him there on the dais winded me, like I’d been hit with a cannon ball. And yet, he had been a prince to me since the very beginning.
My prince. My King.
The crowd rose again, and I was left once again nothing but a servant girl, bewildered and dizzy by what I’d just seen and heard.
Prince Randal was none other than my Randal. And yet, somehow, he was the son of King Bramain. Too old to have been born to the current queen, so what? Where had he been? Why were we only now hearing about a prince?
A hand on my shoulder startled me back to reality, and I turned to see a young woman with kindly eyes and a warm smile.
“You lost, miss?”
Oh, such relief. So lost. So very, very lost. I stared down at my feet, at my clothes. I must have looked entirely out of place. A servant girl gaping at the future king inside the royal palace. But I had to get to him. I simply had to.
“I…I’ve…I need to…” I stammered.
“Come with me,” she said. “Milk’s all over your pretty little outfit. It’ll spoil it if we don’t get it rinsed. Let me help.”
Finally, I found my voice.
“I need to speak with the prince.” I turned over my shoulder to get one last glimpse of him before she dragged me around the corner.
He hadn’t seen me; I was sure of it. I was too far away. He looked so commanding up there. So regal. I could have kicked myself for not realizing it before; now that I had seen him for what he really was, it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I have a very important message for him.”
“Course you do, course you do,” she said, warmly. “My name’s Lisette. I’ll bring you right to him.”
I was so relieved that I had to stifle a sob. So relieved, in fact, that I felt tears spring to my eyes. I realized I was absolutely terrified, so uncertain and so confused, but now I was going to see him. Thank goodness.
But as we moved away from the great hall, the maid’s demeanor seemed to stiffen. Her face gave away nothing, except for the occasional cold glance from the corner of her eye. Her grip on my forearm tightened and went from helpful to hostile. She wasn’t guiding me. She was all but dragging me. Once again, my instinct said what my mind could not.
Run.
Run.
Run.
“On second thought,” I said, stopping short, “I need to get back to my cows. I’m a farmer’s daughter and it’s calving season, you know. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”
When she turned to face me, the kindly face had transformed completely. The warm, bright, blustering maid was gone. The set of her jaw was firm, her lips pursed and nasty. It was as if she had aged a decade in an instant.