Chapter 49: Since You Have Been Gone

He was enveloped in ignorance before he found out what had made him have such a gut feeling. This was reinforced when his left arm slipped into nothingness and slowly sank into the light blue satin pillow. His mother had convinced him that it was not only uncomfortable to sleep on, no, one could also slip off so easily. Nicolas opened one eye and spied an empty edge of the bed in the lazy darkness. "Belle?" he mumbled in confusion. His voice not yet fully awake, he rubbed his eyes sleepily and propped himself up with one elbow. Again he tried not to call out to his love, for he knew he would get no answer. The other side of the bed looked as if he had had no visitors and no one else but the Prince of Little England had lain against it. Nicolas felt betrayed at that moment, he had confessed all his love and feelings to her and had done so many times. Yet she had no better to do than to throw him under the bus each time. How could a human being be so cruel? He would confront her today, if his schedule allowed. In the twilight, he put on his dressing gown and opened the door to his living room. The brilliant morning sun laughed through the windows; Nicolas had to squint his eyes at the sudden difference in brightness. There was already a cup of mint tea and a small breakfast ready on a silver tray. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was customary to sit at the table with his family and the ladies. But apparently something had changed. Had he forgotten an important state appointment? Oliver Portch, his private secretary since the incident with Angelina Charu, was very reliable. He reached for his floor phone on his desk, it was one of the few remaining phones with landlines. They were spread throughout the house and were only used in emergencies. For Nicolas Kantonie, it was definitely one. A whistling sound came from the other side before the longed-for crackle followed. "Prince Nicolas what can I do for you?", Oliver Portch's voice spoke through the receiver. "Is Lady Woodstock available, I would like to meet with her. It's urgent." He was asked to wait a moment. There was static, Mr Portch seemed to be holding the speaker shut. Sipping lightly at his porcelain cup of blue bloom, a little something caught his eye. There was an envelope in pearly white paper on his living room table. He put the cup down on the saucer with a clink and lifted the letter towards him. As he did so, the cord of the landline pulled. He almost tripped over it, annoyed, put the phone up and reached for the tip of the paper. It had his name on it. At that moment the answer came: "I'm very sorry, sir, but Lady Woodstock left the palace this morning." Nicola's head only belatedly realised the truth: "What?! How could you let Portch do that!" "Your Majesty, I am truly sorry, but we cannot hold the ladies when they wish to leave. I know you were very fond of them, but I also only just found out from Madame Orangerinne." Nicolas was silent. He felt as if he had been run over by a steamroller. His body was as if submerged in water, eking out an existence in existence. Mr Portch tried to contact his superior again, asking how His Majesty was feeling. "I am well Portch, thank you..." He dropped the phone to its base and looked into the void. She had really left him. Never in his life, did he feel as abandoned as he did now. In his left hand was still the letter. His eyes focused on the name on it, like a museum object. With numb fingers he opened it and read over it briefly.

Dear Nicolas,

I am writing you these lines in the middle of the night, I don't know if you will ever read these words. Maybe your tea lady will lose them too, she obviously couldn't stand me. Don't worry, it's purely mutual. Anyway, when this news reaches, I will no longer be at the palace. I have thought long and hard about my role in this construct and I have come to the conclusion that I do not want to be a princess or a queen. There is just too much against it, the country is in turmoil, who knows how long I'll be duped as a half-German. What's more, your father would never accept me as his daughter-in-law, let alone Little England. It is better if we keep this shared experience as a fond memory and live our future separately. I feel rather cowardly not telling you this in person, yet I hope/wish you hated me too much.

The rest of the words were smudged, the paper slightly curled. Had she been crying? "Oh, dear.", Nicolas groaned, affected. Tears flowed from him too, in tiny drops, trickling down his cheeks. He was leaning against the front of a desk on which was written in gold letters Bureau. It was a gift from the French king for his 10th birthday. At a time before France conspired against Little England. Why was this world so unfair? Why couldn't she trust him, he would have found a solution to her situation.

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It was late at night when I crept out of the prince's room. I had so hoped that I would not wake him. My dream about the two men in my life, left me with more questions than answers. Of course, I couldn't blame it all on a fantasy or my subconscious. There were reasons for my decision, I realised that the only way I could leave the casting was in a fly-by-night. Nicolas would persuade me to stay with him and my vicious circle started all over again. I wanted to break the wheel of despair. I felt bad that I was shirking this responsibility, but what could I do. I knew that Nicolas would not forgive me for what I had done. Still, let's be honest for once: did I have a chance of becoming his wife? No, I was uneducated in politics and cultural studies. I spoke only two languages. I had no idea about anything, and on top of that there was something I couldn't change because it was in my genes. I was half-German, Martin even whole. I was convinced that I would soon be public enemy number one. I had to go into hiding, flee from the attention of the public. There was actually no hatred against Teutons in our country, but what is not could still become. Times were so uncertain now that the United Germanic Empire was negotiating with Scotland. If it came to war, I hoped my family could still escape. The question was where? If we went to my mother's homeland, we would be traitors to Little England. I could never go back. If we were unlucky we would be locked up in our district, this time with fences and not just time restrictions.

I was so lost in my dystopian thoughts that I didn't notice myself approaching a black figure in the corridor wing. The windows barely broke light, the moon was covered by thick rain clouds. I almost missed her, had it not been for a regular breathing. Halfway there, I stopped. "What are you doing here?" it was a dashing but sublime voice. I could not yet make out who it was. In these circles, everyone raised their voice in the same way, I had already noticed that. Until today, I had no interest in conforming. Another reason not to be a princess. "I got lost, I went for a walk.". I curtsied briefly. My counterpart remained silent, I could have sworn I detected a raised eyebrow. "You go for a walk in the middle of the night and then get stranded in a place that is off limits to ladies?" she left the meaning of the sentence open. Then she came closer, now in a hint of light I caught sight of the eyes of a queen, my queen. I automatically fell into a deeper curtsy and begged forgiveness, for my behaviour. "You were with my son, a confidant told me she had seen you. However, I did not realise that you would also be staying overnight," her nose had turned up slightly and again she did not let it be known what her intention was. She held out her hand to me and motherly invited me to come with her.

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Queen Valentina's chambers were lit with small candles. She explained to me that when she was a child they often had power cuts and that she had therefore got into the habit of lighting candles at night when she was still awake. She was wearing a loose-fitting nightdress with a checked woolen shawl hanging around her shoulders. There were countless fringes on it. Her hair fell in a loose side braid from her right shoulder. "Would you like some tea or water?" I wanted to say no at first, but I was afraid of denigrating her, so I settled for a glass of water. Hoping it didn't contain mint. She handed me a thin glass of water, "So humble, it's red rose petal water. I know you don't like mint." I was quite surprised that she had remembered that. We hadn't met that often. From all I knew, she seemed likeable nonetheless. "Go ahead and take a seat, I'll wait for my tea water to boil." I sat down on a comfortable armchair with a wooden back, I guessed it was a Chesterfield. The light flickered in irregular oscillations. A candlestick with 10 wicks burned in the middle, the golden-white wax collected in a bowl so it wouldn't drip onto the carpet, or the dresser. Valentina came to me, and I imagined I could make out a little roundness on her belly. Was she expecting a child? When I looked at her, her eyelids were darkened and she was eating less than before. However, it could also be due to the stress she was under. Looking closer, I was surprised that she had let me so close into her innermost chambers. Since the attack on her, because of a leather coat, she had been very secretive even towards the people. As if she had read my thoughts by my eyes, she pulled her shawl deeper around her and folded her arms in front of her. After setting the cup down on a coaster, she began to speak: 'I've been wanting to deal with you for a long time anyway. As you know, the king wants you to leave the casting. You are half Germanic and that is the problem." I looked mortified into my cup, feeling guilty that I wasn't pure Little English. The sugar was floating around in the warm tea, slowly dissolving. Queen Valentina continued, "Nevertheless, I want you to know I have nothing against you Lady Woodstock. From all I have heard of you, you are quite loving. But you are nowhere near the point where you can stand by my son's side as a princess." They were words that pained me inside, but at the same time I was glad that someone had finally said it. "And for this reason I would ask you to leave the palace of your own free will. The monarchy is in danger, if we were not in this precarious situation, then your situation would only be a minor blemish, but now we are all in danger of breaking. The palace will issue a press release in three days saying that the palace will not tolerate people with Germanic roots." She looked at me in a sublime way, as if she knew exactly what she was asking of me. I could read in her eyes that it was not her decision. "I'm going to break his heart, he'll never be able to forgive me for this," I whispered with my mouth dry. "I know and I am infinitely sorry, however, if there is one thing I have learnt as a member of this royal family, it is important to put one's own good behind anything else that could jeopardise the monarchy." I placed the cup on the glass coaster, my need for tea entirely gone. Queen Valentina was not vicious and mean, she was a woman who fought for the good of her family and did not want them dragged through protection. Or, more correctly, to be driven out of their own country, as happened to the former royal family Larsen. But I was not prepared to be treated like a pesky insect that had no manners. The queen's upswept hair slid towards the back of her bench due to the weight she looked so tired, so powerless, yet managed to maintain the poise expected of one within these walls. "I think it is time for you to go to bed. Please, take my advice to heart and go, preferably tonight. Think of your family too. The press will not stop and pursue them all."