Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Part Twenty

Georgeanne stood in her room at her window staring out at the gardens which were beautiful.  She imagined herself walking the grounds, but something compelled her not to go out there even though she felt drawn to.

After she and Blue had tidied up in the library, a strange feeling crept over her so she excused herself to her room saying she was going to lie down for a while, but once she got there, she found she could not rest.  Alone with her thoughts, she kept thinking of the wide open spaces of the outside though the closest she could bring herself to the outside was her window.

A light knocking on her door caught her attention, and she turned to see one of her handmaidens poke her head inside.  It was Ainsley, a quiet woman who rarely spoke unless spoken to.  "Feeling better, milady?" she asked.

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it finding she had nothing to say.  Still, she felt she owed the woman some sort of answer, so she said, "I imagine I'm not any worse."

"Are you up for company?" the woman asked, and Georgeanne was wondering if the woman was offering herself up.  Before the princess could question, the woman added, "Your sister is here to see you."

"Oh," she replied.  "She may enter."  Ainsley curtsied and opened the door to let Blue pass.  "Will either of you be needing anything?"  Georgeanne thanked her but said no.  The woman curtsied again and left, closing the door behind her.

"I thought you weren't feeling well," asked Blue.

"I'm not," Georgeanne replied.

"Then why aren't  you laying down?"

"Because I'm restless."

"You, too?"  Georgeanne looked at her sister in surprise and then back out the window.  "Neither of us were never very good at waiting."

"This is different."

"Waiting is waiting."

She turned from the window and stared at her sister.  "We aren't learning to fence or ride horses.  We're talking conspiracy here."

"Georgie-."

"That woman out there," she said with an erratic wave of her hand, "is not our mother.  Our mother... our mother... is out there somewhere."

"I know."

"We need to find her."

"I know," she said.  "But how do you suppose we do that?"  Georgeanne fell silent.  "Look, I know how frustrating this is."

"Do you?" she said, her eyes filling with tears.  "She was my mother.  Before all of this, she was my mother, and in being so I loved her blindly not as my Queen but as the woman that gave me life, that nursed me, that raised me.  And now I find out that not only is she not the woman I thought she was, that she's responsible for my real mother's - our real mother's - disappearance?  What else has she done?" 

Blue went to her, her handkerchief out and dabbing at her sister's face.  "You cannot honestly blame yourself for another woman's choices."

"But she was my mother," she sighed.

"You are nothing like her," said Blue.  "And we both know it's not her blood that courses through your veins.  You're made of something more amazing."

Georgeanne laughed a little.  "Flattery will get you everywhere," she smiled weakly.

"And honesty even further."

She brushed the remaining tears away with her fingertips as she seated herself on the side of the bed.  Her sister sat beside her.  "She was all I had for the longest time until we came here.  There were no other kids around and everyone was so serious all the time.  And then when father died-."  She fell silent, her spoken words falling in mid-air as her face grew worrisome.

"Georgie?"  She placed a hand on her sister's shoulder.  "What is it?"

"Father," she said, and Blue waited.  Out of everything that had happened, everything that they had learned, she had completely forgotten about the man she had called father, the Queen's first husband.  The world in which her and her sister lived had been thrown on its ear.  Nothing was normal or ordinary anymore.  Simple explanations no longer existed.  So she couldn't help but wonder who that man had been, the man who in her younger years she had called father.  Was he truly dead?  Or merely a pawn in the Queen's plan?

Too many questions and not enough answers.  She feared she couldn't take much more and wondered what was going to happen next.

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