7. First Trial
My morning passed in a flurry of swishing dresses, and rude answers—with the exception of Colette. I know I should keep an unbiased mind, but I could not stop thinking about her.
The scars were causing ghastly reactions from the others and it was quelling any feelings I might have felt for them otherwise.
Even Zuri seemed to sour in my presence.
Her answers to the questions lacked any sort of feeling and were completely dismissive, as if she had better things to do.
Her mind seemed miles away, perhaps in her own kingdom.
They all stood before me now. Their gowns billowing and waving in the afternoon breeze. This trial consisted of one activity: To be blindfolded, with a book of our kingdom’s laws balanced upon their head. They are to then navigate an obstacle course.
Mother had put this trial together, and walked through it to prove it was even possible in the first place.
She moved with an elegant dancer’s grace, breezing though each obstacle like she was out for a midnight stroll.
I could feel her eyes on me from the balcony overlooking the location for the trial, as I explained the rules to the princesses.
Charles doled out each book. The thick leather bound tomes had been spelled from damage, so even if they did tumble to the ground they would not be destroyed.
Princess Zuri stepped up to complete the trial first and proceeded without issue. She reminded me of a swan, with light movements.
Elizabeth proceeded right after, again flying through it with ease. I watched only partially interested. Colette covered her mouth as she yawned, and I could sense my mother pause, and stare at the action. Mothers’s eyes met mine and I nodded.
“Colette,” Zuri hissed. “It’s your turn.”
“Oh, goodness!” Colette stepped forward, book still pressed to her chest. She placed it upon her head, as Zuri blindfolded her, and then she set off across the patio to the first obstacle, a beam she must walk across to the lower part of the garden.
Her shoulders seemed hunched inwards, as if the weight of the book was too much.
Her green gown resembled the branches of the willow by the lake. She’d made it only halfway across the patio before the wind had twisted the layers of her dress around her legs and she lurched to keep upright. The book tumbled to the ground at the same time the wind stalled.
She had failed.
Colette ripped the blindfold off and looked down at the book in horror before lunging to pick the book up. She delicately wiped the dust off the cover. Charles cleared his throat and she whirled to face us.
“I don’t know what happened,” Colette breathed.
“That’s quite alright,” I muttered, hoping the emotion in my eyes was apparent when I could not comfort her as I wanted to in front of the others. “That will be all.”
She gripped the book tightly to her chest and rubbed at her eyes, whatever cosmetics her maid had used, wiped away revealing the bluish bruises beneath her eyes.
Colette had not exaggerated when she said she had not slept.
She was painfully more exhausted than she had let on.
I felt a stab to my chest at the torment that I had caused.
Gisela stepped forward and began walking across the patio with ease.
“Friends?” I whispered, catching Colette’s attention.
She nodded, but her pout was more pronounced than ever.
“It will be alright.”
She snorted and shook her head, the golden-brown curls bouncing back and forth. “I just failed,” she snapped. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re tired—” I started, but she gave me a look that silenced me, flicking her eyes to the queen and then to Charles.
“Being tired shouldn’t matter. Zuri didn’t sleep last night either and she’s doing just fine.”
“Zuri didn’t sleep?” I asked, surprised.
She hadn’t mentioned any discomfort in our examination this morning, but she hadn’t elaborated either.
“No,” Colette mumbled. “She was up late reading and writing letters to her family.”
I nodded, slowly. Zuri wasn’t having trouble sleeping then. The only princess who had still been impacted by the pea was Colette.
“You can sleep as soon as Gisela finishes, Princess,” I whispered. Using her title as a term of endearment was the only bit of comfort I could offer.
She pressed her lips into a thin line and squared her shoulders, a look of pure determination washed away that of her earlier despair. “Thank you, Julian. You’re a dear friend.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, nor would I want to.
I regretfully stepped away from her to follow Gisela through the obstacle course, but my main intention in leaving her side was to speak to Charles.
As I watched Gisela make her way from the beam to the hopping stones I leaned closer to Charles.
“Remove Princess Colette’s pea.”
“Your Highness?” Charles’ bushy eyebrows raised high.
“I have a theory to test. Remove it for this afternoon and then replace it before she retires this evening.”
Charles begrudgingly nodded and left the gardens.
As soon as Gisela had proceeded up the flagstone steps and back onto the patio to the finish line, she slipped her blindfold off and gave Colette a malicious smile.
Colette fled straight for the double doors, but that didn’t stop Elizabeth from cornering her before she could make her hasty retreat.
“Making friends with the Governor won’t win you any trials,” she hissed. Gisela appeared on her other side and together they faced Colette.
“I’m not friends with him to win,” Colette replied with obvious irritation.
My stance behind a particularly large flowering vase kept me entirely hidden. Not that Elizabeth or Gisela would even notice if I was standing right beside them. But I knew Colette would.
“How can you even stand being so close to him?” Gisela asked, her nasally voice marking her as the speaker.
“If you’re referring to his scars—how dare you,” Colette replied with more menace and backbone than I had heard from her before.
“But if you’re referring to his position at court then I would advise you to correct your oversight at once.
Being a Princess of Wimberley will dictate your time spent with citizens of various backgrounds and ranks. ”
I could imagine her fiery expression in my mind and it made my pulse race.
One of the two instigators snorted before Elizabeth spoke. “If you think you have a chance of being Princess of Wimberley, you’re just as stupid as I have heard the folk of Silver Hill to be.”
“My selection in the trials is just as valid as yours,” Colette replied simply. “And do not ever speak poorly of Julian around me again.”
I watched as she strode up through the path and the patio before entering the palace. Gisela and Elizabeth began speaking in grating, agitated tones. With their arms still locked, they meandered back through the hedge, no doubt to think up even more ghastly things to say to Colette.
I jogged into the palace and then followed behind her at a leisurely pace, keeping well out of her sight.
With the closing of her bedroom door, I heard her throw herself onto her bed and sob.
It made my heart ache to know she was under so much duress, so I flagged down Maude and sent her in there to check on her.
I waited patiently in the hallway, for what felt like hours, watching the light slant in from the window of the hall. Then I resorted to pacing before Maude finally slipped out with a finger pressed to her lips.
“She’s finally sleeping, poor girl,” she said, well out of earshot of the sleeping princess inside.
“Good,” I breathed.
I had known Maude all my life, but she didn’t know it was me under the guise of the witch’s spell. It was a strange feeling, knowing someone and them not knowing you.
Maude twisted her hands in her apron. “She said she failed the trials … ”
I nodded, perplexed at Maude’s unusual demeanor. The Maude I knew had no trouble speaking clearly about whatever she was feeling.
“Is there anything you can do? She’s such a kind girl. I know Aug—Prince August would just love her. You can put a note in there that Maude said so. He would know who you’re talking about.”
I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. “Unfortunately, I cannot. But I wouldn’t fret. There’s still two more trials.”
Maude sighed, her thin shoulders rising and falling.
“I’ll just have to prepare her better for those,” she dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you, Governor.”
I hoped she felt better about her performance on those trials, but it didn’t matter one bit of fairy dust to me—so long as she kept failing to sleep.