"A wee more, your highness," Grede said, looking shyly at the princess.

  "I would still prefer to be the one with the dough," Belle commented as she sprinkled the flour on the mound of bread dough.

  "Nay, your highness." Grede laughed nervously and shook her head. "'Tisn't seemly for the princess' hands to become soiled with such stickiness. Anis would never approve."

  "Aye," Belle agreed. "But how can a meal be from me when you don't allow me to help?"

  "I am uncertain how to answer, your highness." Grede shrugged her round shoulders as she shaped the dough into loaves then put them into the oven.

  "Does Favian or Carpus hunt?"

  "Aye, your highness."

  "Have they brought pigeons in recently?"

  Grede shuddered as she wiped up the table. "I despise the bird. Beg pardon, your highness."

  "'Tis a pity. Papa's favorite is pigeon pie."

  "For certain?"

  "Aye." Belle sat on the stool. "Isabel would likely pluck the bird for you. I would like Papa's meal to be perfectly complete with all of his favorites."

  Grede smiled. "Your highness, you needn't ask. A simple command will be obeyed."

  "Then I command it," Belle said lightly, "but only if I may help."

  "I shall try to fulfill your wish, your highness."

  The two worked together in the kitchen while Isabel prepared the bird. Belle followed Grede's instructions in making pie crust, and the cook mixed the filling. As soon as it was out, Belle arranged the food carefully on the platter. Pigeon pie, broth, peas, cooked apples, nuts, cheese, and jelly. She finished with a drizzle of honey over the fresh bread. "Now I shall bring it in."

  "Nay!" Grede's voice rushed out in panic. "Nay, your highness. We are never to bring his majesty's food until he asks for it."

  Belle sank onto the stool and removed the apron Grede had lent her. The sound of Percy's footsteps brought her to her feet again.

  "The king demands his dinner."

  Belle stepped up to Percy. "The king's dinner is prepared." She gestured to the platter, laden with food.

  Percy tilted his head with a half grin. "You remember?"

  Belle smiled. "How could I forget? I detest pigeon pie, even though Papa tried to get me to like it." Such fond memories, when Mama was alive and Papa took every challenge with humor.

  When Percy reached for the platter, Belle gripped his arm. "Nay, I shall bring it myself." How she wished one of the yellow roses had bloomed to add a spray of sunshine to her tray.

  "Your highness, I cannot allow--"

  "Percy, please," Belle begged.

  Percy turned away slowly. "Allow me to carry the tray. 'Tis heavy."

  The walk to the king's chambers had never taken so long.

  "Can you walk any faster?"

  Percy sighed. "I think 'tisn't a wise idea."

  "Percy, 'tis time for me to see my father again."

  Percy stopped and turned to face Belle. "Your highness, I do not believe you are ready to face your father."

  His seriousness dampened the spark of hope Belle had nourished. She clung to the last ember and tried to appear confident. "'Tis less than a month until my birthday. 'Tis time."

  Without a word, Percy turned and walked up the stairs. He continued his silence when he stopped at the king's doorway. He turned the handle. The door swung open on its hinges. Belle lifted her head and entered. Confident. With elegance. Just like Lady Kiralyn had taught her.

  The king sat at his desk, his back towards the doorway. His dark, curly hair had tints of gray. His shoulders slumped, as if in perpetual defeat.

  "Papa, I have brought your dinner."

  The shoulders stiffened, but the king did not turn around. Belle nodded to Percy. He placed the tray slowly, soundlessly, on the desk.

  "I love you, Papa, and I'm -- I'm sorry for leaving you all of these years."

  "Sorry enough to convince your uncle to take you completely under his wing?" The words were low, almost like a growl.

  "Nay, Papa, 'tisn't like that."

  "'Tisn't?" Papa finally turned. His dark brown eyes were still sharp and perceptive. He was considerably slimmer than before, and his face had aged. He studied Belle for a moment then looked up at Percy. "Percy, have you laid eyes on the Bible?" His voice was calm. Dangerously calm.

  Percy looked from Belle to the king and took a deep breath.

  "Answer me!" The words exploded.

  "Aye, your majesty."

  "And where is this Bible now?" Cold. Hard.

  Belle ran forward and slipped a hand on Percy's arm. She wasn't going to let him take blame for her actions. "'Tisn't Percy's fault, Papa. I have it. 'Twas Mama's--"

  "Enough!" Papa roared. Belle lost any trace of the confidence she had assumed and shrank behind Percy as Papa stood to his feet. "You came in here, without my permission. Tried to slip in without my knowledge." He walked forward, every step forcing Belle to stumble backwards. "I never asked you to return, and I certainly do not approve of this!" His fist brought the tray of food crashing to the ground. "Percy, remove her and never bring her back."

  Belle didn't wait for Percy's help. She fled from the room, finding her way down the hall, more by feeling than sight as she kept the tears at bay. If Grede was in the kitchen when she sped past, she didn't see her. She continued running, through the gardens, across the field, then finally to the stables.

  A sob escaped.

  "Your highness?"

  Belle kept her back to Linus. "Saddle my horse."

  "Now? 'Tis almost dark, and a storm is brewing."

  "Immediately."

  Linus couldn't move fast enough for her. Sobs were churning inside her, surging as they were held back.

  Linus brought Galathia to Belle. "Your highness, I cannot--"

  "Shall I mount without your assistance?" Belle had never used such a sharp voice before.

  "Nay, your highness." Linus bowed.

  Belle avoided making eye contact as she mounted. Digging her heels into Galathia, she left the stables behind. Papa didn't want her here. He had left the choice up to her, but today, he had chosen for her. She was leaving.

  Burying her head in Galathia's mane, Belle released the sobs. Before long, raindrops joined the tears on her cheeks. Still, she rode on, pushing Galathia into a gallop.

  Lightning flashed, accenting the thunder that shuddered the earth. With a mad scream, Galathia reared.

  The last thing Belle remembered was flying off the saddle.

  The room was dark. A pinhole of light shone, then it was dark again. Belle fought against consciousness. It hurt. Everything hurt.

  Voices warbled together, sometimes sounding like they were in a distant cave, other times screaming in her ear.

  "Galathia..."

  "Always acting afore she thinks."

  "Roses..."

  Then nothing.

  A soft hand caressed her face. Belle tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy. She squeezed them shut tighter. The pain wasn't so bad now.

  "Belle." The deep voice was soft. Low. Subdued. "Belle, can you hear me?"

  Belle opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

  "You shall be all right." The hand ran down her head slowly, bringing the comfort she remembered as a child. "Rest."

  When she opened her eyes again, everything was blurry. She blinked and her vision cleared. The room was dimly lit -- not enough to hurt her eyes. She slowly turned her head. There was a chair next to her bed, Anis sitting in it, asleep.

  The clock ticked incessantly. Time was passing quickly. She needed to make her decision. Memories of Papa's hand caressing her hair flashed before her, sending warmth into her heart. Nay. Papa was angry at her. Wanted her gone. She must have been dreaming. Wishing that things had changed.

  Anis moved then sat up. "Your highness," she spoke softly and tenderly, as if Belle was a babe.

  "Anis." Belle's voice was raspy.

  Anis brought a cup to Belle's lips and bitter liquid burned down her throat. As soon as it was gone, Belle whispered, "Bring me… writing…"

  "Your highness," Anis' voice sounded strained. "You have just awoken after days. You are in no health to write a missive."

  "Bring…" Belle forced her eyes open. She had to do this.

  Anis moved out of sight. The time it took for her to gather Belle's writing utensils gave Belle enough rest to press on. Anis set the quill pen, ink bowl, and paper on a tray and laid it on the bed beside Belle, keeping it steady with her hand.

  Still lying on her side, Belle reached for the pen. Her fingers were dry and weak as they slipped over the quill. Anis helped her to dip it in ink. One letter at a time, she wrote, "Lord Kiralyn, The king no longer desires me here. Please come." Signing her name, Belle let the pen drop.

  "Send it," she whispered to Anis. Then, she was asleep again.

  Low voices awoke Belle. The room was lighter than before. It must be daytime.

  "What happened?" Belle asked.

  The voices stopped and footsteps came closer. Belle squinted until the forms became Anis and Isabel.

  "'Tis good to see your highness awake," Isabel commented. "You caused quite a stir in the castle with your rash deeds."

  "I remember the storm… the horse…" Belle's brow furrowed as she closed her eyes. Had anything happened since then?

  Anis stroked her hair. "'Tis past now. The healer says you shall get well."

  In the silence that fell between them, Belle realized the clock ticking. "Did Percy…" Her brow wrinkled in thought. "Did he fix the clock?"

  "Nay, your highness," Isabel said. "Percy may do many things, but clocks are beyond his comprehension."

  "Well then, who?"

  "His majesty."

  Her father… Another memory came from before the accident. "He was angry with me."

  "Aye," Isabel stated.

  "Why did he fix the clock?"

  "Mayhap he didn't like the deathly silence while sitting in here."

  "In here?" Vague memories of someone caressing her hair fought to surface then dissipated.

  "Aye, your highness." Anis joined the conversation. "He rarely left your side when you slept."

  "Where is he now?"

  Isabel sniffed in disdain. "Percy convinced him to take some rest or we'd lose both the king and the princess."

  "Help me into a gown, Anis." Belle pushed her body into a sitting position.

  "Nay!" Both Anis and Isabel rushed forward to keep her from leaving the bed.

  "I am well," Belle argued. "I can feel the strength in my limbs."

  "You shall not be so hasty this time," Isabel reprimanded. "Your flighty ways have gotten you into this trouble. We shall not let it prolong your illness."

  The door behind the maids creaked open. Anis spun around. "She's awake, your majesty."

  Anis and Isabel stepped back.

  "Papa." What was meant to be an exclamation came out a hoarse whisper.

  "Belle." Papa hurried forward and sank into the seat beside her bed. He placed his hand on hers then, ever so slowly, squeezed it, keeping his gaze locked with Belle's. His face was grim, his deep brown eyes unreadable. "I…" He paused for a long moment. He turned and looked at the maids. "You may leave." They hurried out the room. Still, Papa didn't speak.

  "Papa…"

  "'T'was my fault," Papa blurted.

  Belle stiffened and tried to catch her breath.

  "I… was angry with you. Made you ride off."

  "Papa, I forgive you," Belle breathed the words, almost inaudible.

  Papa nodded and cleared his throat. "Would you like for me to read?" He tilted his head towards the bedside table, on which lay a softbound book. "We were near the end."

  "I don't remember any of it," Belle whispered, not taking her eyes off Papa.

  "We shall start at the beginning then." He released her hand and reached for the book. As he started, Belle kept her hand where Papa laid it. Gone was the anger she remembered possessing him, replaced by a tenderness she hadn't seen since before Mama died. She shut her eyes, relishing the moment.

  Papa stopped reading. "You should rest," he said.

  "Nay." Belle's eyes flew open. "Please continue." She was afraid to say more. Afraid to shatter this moment by making the wrong move.

  Papa's voice was soft as he read, musically gliding up and down to fit the words. At the end of the chapter, he laid the book aside. "Are you hungry?"

  Now that he asked, Belle noticed slight hunger pangs. "Aye."

  "Porridge with honey?"

  He remembered. Belle smiled. "Aye."

  Papa left the room only to return a few minutes later with the dish. "Are you strong enough to feed yourself?"

  Belle reached for the bowl. "Aye, I think so."

  "Eat slowly. You've not had much food."

  Belle nodded. The room was silent as she ate, taking small spoonfuls of warm porridge. After just a few bites, she handed the bowl back to Papa. "I do not think I can eat more."

  Papa nodded. "You need to rest." He helped Belle lay down then covered her as she closed her eyes.

  "Rest well," he said.

  She thought she heard him leave the room, but then, a gentle kiss was placed on her forehead.

  Percy settled Belle in a chair surrounded by books. "There you are, your highness. His majesty shall be in shortly."

  "Thank you, Percy." Belle let her hands rest in her lap. She hadn't quite gained as much strength as she thought she had when she first awoke. "Percy…"

  The scribe stopped from leaving the room. "Aye?"

  "Papa… is he different?" Hope laced her words. Percy would know the real answer, how the king was behind closed doors.

  "Your illness worried the king."

  "But did he truly change?"

  Percy walked back towards Belle and knelt beside her chair. "Are you concerned he may change back, if you decide to stay?"

  "Aye," Belle admitted.

  "Have you considered how it might affect the king -- not just you?"

  Belle shifted in her seat. "What do you mean?"

  "Lord and Lady Kiralyn are sincerely concerned for your well-being, yet God chose his majesty to be your father. The easier choice may be to go with Lord Kiralyn, yet who might need you more?" He stood up and walked to the door then stopped and turned. "I thought your highness had already decided."

  "Nay," Belle said. "I was tempted to leave. 'Twas why I rode Galathia out."

  "Anis said you wrote a letter."

  "Nay! I didn't. When would I have done so?"

  "When you were ill."

  Belle leaned forward and laid her head in her hands. With her eyes closed, she willed herself to remember. "Percy," she murmured, not moving. "Bring Anis in."

  In the moments that Percy was gone, Belle tried retracing the past few days, but everything was a dark blur. A fog she couldn't see through. As soon as she heard the quick steps of her lady-in-waiting, she demanded, "Anis, did I write a letter to Lord Kiralyn when I was ill?"

  "Aye, your highness."

  The words set Belle's heart racing. "Did you send the letter?" She wished that, this once, her lady-in-waiting would have done something against her orders.

  "Aye, your highness."

  Anis' affirmation felt like a knife cutting at her heart. Her head began pounding. "When?"

  Anis didn't meet Belle's gaze. "I took great liberty, your highness. I knew his majesty was afraid of losing you. And if you were gone, what good would the letter do for Lord Kiralyn?"

  "So you didn't send it?" Belle couldn't keep excitement from lacing her words.

  "I sent it, your highness." Belle's hopes were dashed with Anis' admission. "But not until you awoke yestermorn."

  Belle turned to Percy. "How long does it take for a missive to reach Lord Kiralyn?"

  "By route, two days."

  Two days? If he left as soon as he received it, he would be here on the morrow. "How long would it take you to bring one?"

  "If you lend me Galathia, I could take the forest route and be there by morn."

  "Bring me my writing things," Belle ordered Anis.

  The lady-in-waiting's eyes hardened. "You have made your decision, your highness."

  "Nay!" Belle cried. "I was ill." She shuddered at the real reason it bothered her. She knew that she hadn't sought God before writing the letter. What repercussions would it have?

  "The lord and lady would treat you well," Anis argued. "Much better than this beast."

  Belle rose on shaking legs. "Do not disrespect my father, Anis. I could have you sent off."

  Percy stood beside Belle, steadying her. "Anis, you have heard her highness' orders. Retrieve her writing utensils." He waited until Anis stormed out of the room before helping Belle back to her seat. "I shall ready Galathia and return."

  "Papa won't be angry with you leaving?"

  Percy lifted half of his mouth in a grin. "His majesty will overcome his anger with me. You haven't long before he comes in. You best hurry."

  Belle watched Percy leave, every limb aching to get up and run to her room herself instead of waiting on her sullen maid to go for her.

  The door reopened and Belle looked up expectantly. Her breath caught as Papa slipped in. Not yet. She tried to rise, but Papa shook his head. "Nay, stay there." He brought a chair next to her and picked up the book. "Shall we resume?"

  Belle tried to mirror his smile, but her mouth went dry. How could she write such a vital message in his presence? Her head throbbed harder. The vowels and consonants blurred together, making no sense as Papa read. She could excuse herself for weariness, but it would come at the cost of forfeiting her time with Papa today--and such a choice might cost her more than she was willing to pay.

  When Anis stepped into the room, her smile was smug. She laid Belle's writing pouch on a shelf, gave a slight curtsy, then left.

  "Is something the matter?"

  Belle hadn't noticed when Papa ended the chapter. "Nay," she lied. She attempted to smile. "You may continue."

  The reading that had been a soothing balm yesterday now filled Belle with anxiety.

  "Gala--" Percy stopped and looked from the king to Belle. She gave him a look of misery. It must have conveyed the message she implored because he clicked his heels together and cleared his throat. "Your majesty."

 

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