A glimpse of the past 2

Thirty-three years ago

A menace. An absolute menace. I ask myself for the hundredth time if I regret taking this job as I watch a tiny figure with wild raven hair leap from one tree branch to another like an untamed monkey. My heart clenches with every jump, every reckless move, and I can already feel the headache forming behind my temples.

Mirelle, Princess Mirelle, is going to be the death of me.

Some passing servants pause to observe the spectacle, casting me sympathetic glances. I catch one of them whispering, 

"Poor Joan," before hurrying along. Yes, poor Joan indeed. How did I go from grieving widow to glorified tree-climbing babysitter?

I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. The midday sun filters through the canopy of trees, casting dappled light onto the manicured lawns of the palace garden. The scent of fresh blooms drifts through the warm air, but even the peaceful atmosphere does little to calm my nerves.