"I see," Belle said. "Percy has always run the errands he's needed, and meals must be one of those errands." As she assured Grede, she grew more confused. Had Papa grown into a complete recluse, seeing no one? Percy would know the answer.

  As soon as her breakfast was finished, Belle asked, "Has Papa breakfasted yet?"

  "Nay, your highness. Percy has not yet come."

  "Thank you."

  Belle retraced her steps to the second floor. A dozen bedchambers separated Belle's room from the king's suite. As she walked through the passage, the length made her heart sink. Before Mama had gotten sick, Belle's chamber was adjacent to Papa and Mama's. She would sneak past her nursemaid at night when she was scared and crawl into bed with them. Papa had let her wander into his study and sit by him quietly when he did his business. At first, Belle's room had been moved so she would not disturb Mama, but after Mama died, Papa didn't seem to care that Belle's room was moved. Instead, she felt forbidden from that end of the castle.

  Today, however, she needed some answers. And the best way to find Percy was to go to Papa's end of the castle. Though it had been years since Belle had braved coming this close, her memory filled in the view behind closed doors. The door to her left was the bedchamber. The one at the end of the hall was Papa's study. One day, Belle was going to enter it again. Or so she hoped and prayed.

  Muffled voices came from behind the door. Belle shifted her weight as her body shuddered against her will. What would Papa say if he saw her standing in the hall? She took a few steps back until her body pressed against the stone wall. The voices grew louder. Then it was just one voice. Shouting. The door muddled the diction of the words, but the tone was clear.

  Belle covered her face with her hands. Lord, I don't know what to do here. This is beyond me. I--

  The shouting suddenly became clear and Belle peeked through her fingers. The door had opened and she could hear each word of the argument.

  "This! This is what your--your meddling has wrought!"

  "But your--"

  "Leave!" the king roared the word and something crashed against the wall.

  Percy emerged from the room, and the door slammed behind him. His mouth was set in a firm line despite his shoulders sagging. He took a quick breath then straightened his shoulders and marched forward.

  Belle stepped away from the wall.

  Percy's eyes narrowed when he saw her. "I advise you to never come here again." His words were short and rapid, matching his steps as he passed Belle.

  "Was he talking of me?" Belle hurried to catch up with Percy. "Will Papa -- will he send you away… because of me?"

  Percy stopped. "Nay, he would never send me away. There is no one else he trusts." The words had a sorrowful tinge lacing them. "Do not worry yourself of the king's matters."

  "But I am his daughter."

  "Aye..." Percy sighed and resumed walking, his pace slower as he thought. "Mayhap there are seasons in which it would be wise to occupy your time elsewhere than the castle."

  "Have seven years not been sufficient?"

  "Just give him more time."

  Belle stopped and let Percy continue without her. More time? There were three months to convince Papa to let her stay. And if he refused, then these were her last three months in the castle. How sufficient was that time?

  Delightful fragrance flittered through the air as the wind brushed scent from the herb leaves. Peppermint, basil, dill, cilantro, and thyme were creatively planted amidst squash, tomatoes, onions, peas, green beans, and other vegetables. The kitchen garden had never really attracted Belle, but it was a part of home. A part of her life which might soon be abolished.

  Leaving the small garden behind, Belle traipsed through the intricate knot garden. They were exquisite, just as Olli had always kept them -- if he was even master of the grounds still.

  Birds whistled pleasantly around her, chasing each other through the various trees and bushes as if trying to convince Belle that somber life lived only inside of the castle. The gentle splashing of the fountain and distant sound of the horses from the stables joined in the harmony of the birds' music; the songs of the castle grounds that Belle loved.

  Today, the songs only served to bring Belle back. Back to a time when they were a happy family. When Mama had planned her rose garden, inviting Belle to select her favorite roses to embellish the plot. When deer had threatened the garden, Papa ordered walls to be built around it, creating what he called their secret garden. Many times, it was just Belle and Mama inside, leaving the world with its cares and sorrows shut out.

  A burning desire for this serenity overtook Belle, and she rushed around the walls until she reached the gate. Vines wove in and out of the intricate ironwork, creating a shield that blocked Belle's view of the flowers inside. She reached for the latch. A lock was rusted onto it. The garden had never been locked before. Pulling at the vines, she created a hole big enough to peek inside. Her heart, which had quickened in pace, now seemed to skip a beat. Only a few tall canes stood bravely amidst the tangle of weeds, the stems dropping with the remainders of flowers that had bloomed, dried up, and died. The paths and garden beds were hidden by brambles, nothing like the paradise she remembered.

  Footsteps sounded behind Belle and she spun around, schooling her face to be calm. A stranger stood in front of her.

  "You must be the gardener," Belle guessed. It certainly was not Olli.

  The older man before her gave a low bow. "Aye, your highness. Carpus, at your service."

  "Carpus." Belle turned and fingered the lock. "Is there a key to this gate?"

  A look of alarm crossed Carpus' face then disappeared. "It has been locked since before I was here, your highness."

  "No one enters it?"

  "Nay, your highness."

  "Why not?"

  Carpus glanced at the castle then looked back to Belle. "Percy told me it was his majesty's orders. And I am not one to question the king's demands."

  Belle swallowed her torrent of questions and gave Carpus a stiff smile. "Thank you, Carpus."

  "My pleasure, your highness." Carpus bowed again then hurried to resume his tasks.

  Belle turned back to the garden, clinging to the memories that seemed to be corroding quickly. There was one place left to visit. Another place where the past had been pleasant. Bracing herself, Belle left the gardens behind. A long, empty field spanned in front of her, the grass bright green. How was it possible for everything outside to be bright and cheery, yet her heart feel so heavy and sorrowful?

  At the crest of the field rested the large stables. It was dwarfed compared to the castle, but Belle knew that it was one of the finest stables in the country.

  The side door was easy to open and the nutty smell of hay rushed over Belle. She plunged into the dimness of the stables and stood, surveying the rows of empty stalls in silence.

  "Good morn," a bright, cheery voice greeted. "You must be the long-lost princess. My pleasure." The man swooped into a low bow.

  "I am. And you are…?"

  "Linus, your highness." Another bow. "How may I help my lovely princess?"

  "I am..." What was she doing here? Trying to relive her past? Grasping for any promise that life hadn't changed? "Does Papa still own Keirstrider?"

  "Aye." A broad grin spread across Linus' face. "Still rides him every day. Keeps him in the stall nearest the pasture. Follow me, your highness."

  There he was, in a secluded stall. His large head hovered over the door, golden hair sweeping over his forehead. Belle stepped past Linus and held out her hand to Keirstrider.

  "'Tis good to see you again, Keir," Belle spoke softly as Linus stepped away.

  Keirstrider's soft nose touched Belle's hand. At the invitation, Belle threaded her fingers in Keirstrider's mane, letting her palms rest on his golden neck. She lowered her forehead until it touched the white star on Keirstrider's head. She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping tears from sliding down her cheeks. Here, with Papa's treasured horse, she felt near him. Much nearer than when she had heard his voice screaming at Percy.

  "Keir, I miss him," she whispered, not sure the horse could hear her low murmur. "If only you could talk. Then, in the morn when he rides you, you could give him that message." She pulled away and looked into the old horse's blue eyes. The horse blinked slowly and Belle backed away then fled from the stables.

  "If there is a key to the garden, your father has it." Percy offered the information slowly as he pulled several books from the bookcase.

  "Could you ask him for it, since he refuses to see me?"

  "Nay." Percy shook his head. "There are some things even I don't ask for." He stacked the books on the side table before reaching for more.

  "Would it be wrong for me to enter the garden, if I found a way?" Belle laid a hand on Percy's arm. Finding Papa's books was only his pretense to brush her off, and she knew it.

  Percy stopped his search and sighed. "His majesty ordered it locked."

  "Aye, and…?"

  "I have heard nothing of the garden being expressly forbidden." He must have noticed her eyes light up, because he hastened to add, "Locking the garden is akin to forbidding it, your highness."

  Belle motioned to the settee in the center of the library. "Please, be seated, Percy. I need some answers."

  Percy hesitated, tilted his head in a bow, then sat next to Belle. "I am not certain I have answers, your highness."

  "Have all of the original servants left? That is, besides you and Isabel?"

  "Aye."

  "Are the only other servants Grede, Favian, Carpus, and Linus?"

  "Aye."

  "Why so few?" Belle studied Percy as he paused before answering. "Please, Percy, tell me."

  "Very well then." Percy stood and began pacing in front of Belle. "When your mother died, it seemed to take a part of his majesty. It was as if she was the reason for his living. I think you are a part of that memory of Queen Ryia. And the king has yet to accept that she is no longer here -- and, that his life is not just about himself."

  Belle nodded, knowing that Percy meant no disrespect for his master. "What has Papa been doing these past few years?"

  "That, your highness, I cannot satisfactorily answer." Percy frowned. "He has his duties, I assure you, yet beyond those, he occupies his time doing little to nothing. If it is unnecessary for him to be seen, then I attend his callers."

  Silence hung between them. What could be said when nothing had changed for the past decade?

  "The kingdom is indebted to your faithfulness to my father. I am grateful."

  The pacing stopped and Percy stood before Belle, his hands clasped behind his back. "Why did you return?"

  "I've not yet put it into words." Belle took a deep breath as her reasons flooded her. Even Percy could not know the pressure of why she chose to return yesterday. "'Tis -- 'tis hard to know where to begin."

  Percy took the seat next to Belle again. "Very well. Begin at the beginning." He smiled encouragingly.

  Belle closed her eyes for a moment. "It was this past winter. We were at the church for Christmas service." She opened her eyes, tears suddenly forming. "Mama always liked Christmas, so it has been special for me because of that."

  Percy reached over and patted her hand.

  "There is something so special about the season. Children are happy, parents are smiling. Something connects them all.

  "This Christmas eve, there was a new friar. He explained the story of the Christ-child. I have heard it since infanthood. This time, however, he asked us why we still celebrated Christ's birth, since it happened so long ago. I didn't know the answer." Belle reached in her pocket and drew out a small, gilded book. "Percy, do you know the answer?"

  The older man smiled. "Mayhap, but I shall be pleased to hear it from the princess' lips."

  "Jesus is the Son of God. And in heaven, He is surrounded by royalty and grandeur -- far greater than anything I have seen on this earth. And yet He left it all so that He could take the sins of the world to the cross, and die in our place. You see, the wages of sin -- any sin, great or small -- is death. And that payment must be made.

  "I must admit," Belle lowered her head, "I love the fancy things that surround my life, and if some wretch were to die for his transgressions, I certainly would not leave my position, like Jesus did, to take his place. A wretch does not deserve it."

  When Belle paused, Percy asked, "And the story ends there?"

  "Nay." Belle gave a slight laugh. "You may think it childish, but I had lied to Auntie -- Lady Kiralyn -- the week before. Something frivolous and silly, but I had convinced myself that no harm was done. During the friar's speech, however, all of the 'small' sins I committed piled up until I realized the truth about myself: I was a sinner. Just like any wretch, I should die for my transgressions. I was not perfect and thus could not enter God's perfect heaven. Being a princess did not make my sins better than a peasant's sins.

  "The friar said that God's Spirit works in our hearts to convict us of sin. He explained that if we respond to this, if we repent from our sins and accept that Jesus Christ is the only way to heaven, then He will forgive us our sins." Belle's face blossomed into a smile. "Percy, I did just that." A look of peace and joy came over Percy's face at those words. Belle clasped his hands in her excitement. "You've known Jesus Christ as your Savior for a while yet, have you not?"

  "Aye, your highness." Percy's large hands patted Belle's in a fatherly fashion. "And I am praising the Lord that He has you in the fold too."

  "Auntie Elayne said that Mama was saved -- and for the first time since her death, I have such peace, because I know that I shall see her again."

  The happiness in Belle's eyes faded as she looked down the darkened halls that led away from the parlor. "It was that same night that I thought of Papa again." She looked ashamed. "I had done my best to forget him and convince myself that I no longer cared. But that night, I cared." Her throat tightened and she fought back tears. "And since then, I couldn't stop thinking about Papa. I know he's not the same as when Mama was alive. I lived with him for a few years and saw the change, but I wondered if things were different now."

  Percy shook his head solemnly. "Nay, your highness. I fear he has gotten worse."

  Belle took a quivering breath. "For months I fought it, but I knew that the Lord was telling me to come back home. I still don't know why. If Papa refuses to see me, and if my return has angered him, what good does it do?" If Lord Kiralyn desired to adopt her, would she be better off to just leave? What would being here for only a few short months merit? She whispered her fears aloud. "Is there any hope?"

  Percy squeezed her fingers gently. "Only time will tell. We shall keep praying, aye?"

  Belle nodded. "Aye." She could pray fervently for Papa, but time was the one thing she didn't have.

  Belle fingered the rusted lock, the lock that kept her from her paradise on earth. That kept her from the one place she felt like she needed to be today. Her fingers slipped down to the pocket of her blush pink dress, brushing against the letter hidden beneath the folds.

  Seeing Carpus in the distance, Belle lifted her skirts and ran towards him. "Carpus!" She hoped the tremor in her voice came from running, not from the emotions bottled up inside of her.

  The man stood up straight then bowed. "Your highness," he called as he took several strides towards her. "How may I assist you this morn?"

  "I desire access into the garden."

  Carpus looked over his shoulder at the castle and lowered his voice. "I am not certain such is a good idea."

  Belle followed his gaze to the dark windows. Papa's room was on this side of the castle, but she had studied his window for hours. Only once did she think the curtain moved. And that may have been her imagination.

  "Percy said that Papa hasn't expressly forbidden it." She paused. The letter seemed to weigh heavily in her pocket, urging her to that one place where she could shut out these sorrows. "Have you any idea how to enter?"

  Carpus' forehead crinkled as he thought. "I may be persuaded to break the lock."

  "Then be persuaded, for I am in dire need of entering today." The urgency in Belle's heart poured into every word.

  "Aye, your highness." Carpus bowed.

  Belle followed the gardener to the gate then paced behind him as he worked on the lock. Within a minute, Carpus had the latch broken. The iron hinges grated together as the gate was forced open.

  He bowed low. "The garden awaits, your highness."

  Without a word, Belle slipped into the garden. The conflict in her heart only deepened as she picked her way along the overgrown paths. Mama would have never allowed the garden to reach such disarray. The rosebushes that remained were overgrown, with dead stems tangled in the growth.

  She knelt and gently fingered a faded rose petal. The roses were supposed to blossom all year, yet only a few faded petals were left to fall to the ground. She plucked one of them off. That was how she felt. Like a petal clinging to its stem, hopeful of staying, fearful of being cast away.

  Tears surfaced. She had been here for two weeks already, and heard no word from Papa. Percy continued to say, "cling to hope," but it was hard to hope with her birthday looming ahead, with an aunt and uncle who adored her, now begging her to return and reconsider. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out the letter. Auntie Elayne always used flowing words -- words that she truly meant, starting with, "My dearest Belle..."

  Now, the tears streamed freely, making the words blur before her. She had already read the letter twice, the words pulling at her heartstrings. Though Auntie Elayne said they were trying to be understanding, every paragraph urged her to come back, revealing how much they missed her.

  Lord and Lady Kiralyn had treated her like a daughter. Had loved her, nurtured her, counseled her, and now, reminded her of their love. Her heart was being torn. Before she had come here, she was so sure of God's leading. Now that she was here, and everything was silent, she wasn't so sure. If God had led her here, then why must she wait? Why couldn't Papa take her into his arms, like her uncle so often did, and tell her that everything would be all right? Would he ever sit in the library with her, taking turns reading chapters of her favorite books, like Auntie Elayne did? Or would she forever be left with servants as her only companions?

 

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