The Queen's Keeper

“Evangeline, come back to me!”

Evangeline turned swiftly, a sly smile on her face. Her brown ringlets flopped behind her shoulder and she placed a hand over her forehead dramatically. “I cannot…don’t you see? I am engaged.”

She fell limply to the stage floor and lay there silently, her eyelids fluttering. Giggles erupted from the rest of the group and she sat up, a triumphant grin on her face. “Oh, Evangeline…I love you…please…you are like a flower and I want to caress your petals.” Thad leaned down in front of her, his hands outstretched and a pained, sorrowful look on his face.

They laughed when she stood up, brushing her dress off as she did so. She gave them all a mischievous grin and a mock bow.

“How dare you make fun of my play,” an angry Lisette seethed, his fingers crushing the paper in between his hands. He gathered up his bags and stared hatefully at Evangeline. She was always ruining his plays.

“I wouldn’t make fun of it if it wasn’t so…horrible,” Evangeline answered frankly. “You were asking for it, Lisette. Now leave. We don’t want to play your foolish games anymore.”

More laughter and Lisette made his leave, his hair angrily bouncing against his shoulders. “Evangeline, come back! Come back!” Thad yelled loudly, as to make sure Lisette heard it.

“Thad, enough; the boy is probably already in tears by now. Let’s go outside,” she stated. She was cruel, but knew when to stop. She didn’t want to break the boy’s spirit.

“Actually, love, I must be going now,” Thad informed her, placing an arm around her shoulder. “But not to fear…your fierce prince will be back to steal you away.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes and shook him off. “Goodbye,” she told him, turning sharply on her heel and exiting the small gathering place – the rest of the girls following closely behind.

They walked a short distance closely packed together, Evangeline in the lead.

“Evangeline,” Gwen, her closest friend said, making her way through the children and locking arms with her. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought we could go exploring.”

“That would be fun…though I thought you should know Eleanor expects you back in an hour.” Gwen leaned in closely to Evangeline and whispered, “She wishes to speak with you in private.”

“Oh, has she already spoken to you?” Evangeline asked excitedly, a grin forming on her face.

“Yes…as well as two others. You are the last.”

“Can you tell me what she said?”

“No,” Gwen answered firmly. “We are all given different duties, so you would not benefit from knowing mine.”

“But that means we will be separated,” Evangeline answered, her eyebrows wrinkling in disapproval.

“Only during the night…”

“What does that mean?”

“I cannot tell you!” Gwen exclaimed, getting exasperated.

“Alright then,” Evangeline answered, picking up the bottom of her dress. “Let us race.”

Excited murmurs were heard throughout the small circle as everyone hastily removed their shoes and stripped down to their undergarments. The grass was lush and soft and seeped right through the spaces in between their toes. “You mustn’t get caught,” Evangeline warned. “If you are caught in this state, you’ll surely be in for a good lashing.”

“But Eleanor does not care!” A younger girl -- Evangeline never bothered to learn their names -- exclaimed, poking her lips out.

“If you poke those lips out any further, you shall trip over them,” Evangeline warned her. “Of course she does not care. But there are others…others who would.” She did not wish to elaborate and ignored any other questions.

“Evangeline, this isn’t proper,” Gwen said desperately, though she had already stripped down. “You are betrothed.”

Evangeline laughed it off. “I have only met him once. And he is fat and ugly and he smells of pig and dog…though I would much rather lay with the dog and pig.”

“But that does not change the fact that you are betrothed.”

“Only for now,” Evangeline answered slyly, looking up at Gwen through her eyelashes. “I will find another suitor.”

Gwen laughed disbelievingly. “And just who do you think that will be? Good, wealthy husbands aren’t exactly easy to find.”

Before she could get an answer, Evangeline took off running down the hill, her hair and white gown streaming behind her. “That girl will be hung before she is twenty,” Gwen muttered.

Gwen ran after her anyways. Not only was Evangeline her closest friend, but she was the most influential in her life. The other girls giggled as they ran, their arms spread wide, letting the air become one with them. It felt to them as though they were flying. At the bottom, there were slick rocks mixed in with the grass and a few fell and slid the rest of the way down, laughing as they did so.

Even though she slipped as she reached the very bottom and rolled around for a few moments, Evangeline reached the gate to the forbidden castle first. When the rest of the girls reached it, she was already leaning against the spokes leisurely, examining her nails. Her gown hung loosely off one shoulder and a few twigs and pieces of grass were in her hair.

The field behind her which was contained in the fence was even lusher, with flowers growing wild everywhere. The soil looked as if it was at least an inch thick. Heavenly scents greeted all of its visitors (because even though it was forbidden, it was lovely). The castle itself was an imposing sight, as it had always been. It was a grayish black color, made of stone, rocks, and bricks. At the top of the tower, a tiny flicker could be seen, though it was not dark enough for it to be fully visible. There were vines that grew all around it, their green tenacious fingers stretching on and on. No one knew the real name of this castle; it had been long forgotten and the people simply referred to it as the Forbidden Castle. There were only two castles that concerned the people anyways: the king’s castle and the one before the young girls. Many rumors circulated around both.

“Gwen,” Evangeline cried excitedly. Her hands were clasped together and there was a faraway look in her eyes – the eyes of a silly dreamer. “I shall marry the prince!” She had said it so many times that it had little effect on Gwen. The little ones, however, giggled and stared at her in wonder. They wanted to hear her plans of triumph and victory.

Evangeline was an exceptionally bold, outspoken, and confident young woman. Almost nothing fazed her and it never failed to amaze her confidants how she still managed to be alive. Gwen laughed out loud and took hold of Evangeline’s shoulders, shaking her lightly. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”

“Oh no,” she whispered, shaking her head back and forth, a bit dazed. “I never drink on Tuesdays. I just see it all so clearly now…the prince…it would be perfect. I would become queen soon…the one we have now is dying anyways…”

“What are you saying?” Gwen asked, laughing even louder. “If anyone was to hear that, you would be hung for high treason. You’re being absurd. The prince…no, no, no…you are a silly fool and you must not think about him anymore.”

“But he…he smiled at me…at the last ball,” she answered, looking off dreamily. She envisioned the night only weeks before, when she wore her dress which was intended for dowry. She hadn’t been allowed to dance much, for fear she would rip it.

“He smiles at any woman he hopes to become his whore,” Gwen answered frankly. “You have nothing to offer the kingdom…no alliances…no power…you aren’t even of royal blood.” Evangeline wasn’t concerned with any of that. She knew she was attractive and healthy; she could have plenty of children. The doctor who checked on her routinely told her so.

“Yes,” Evangeline answered indignantly. “I am of royal blood. My father was distantly related to the king’s father-”

“Oh, shut up, you fool,” Gwen hissed. The younger girls had surrounded them and were watching in fascination. The thought of Evangeline being with the prince excited them.

“I have one thing to offer the prince,” Evangeline stated evenly, “Love.”

Gwen did not fall for it even a moment and burst into laughter and grabbed Evangeline firmly once more. “You…you are too wild to love any man. And there is only one part of you that the prince would be partially concerned with. And it is not your heart.” Gwen laughed a bit and shook her head. “I can see it now, Evangeline. He would be kind to you on your wedding night and after he bedded you; he would tie you to the bed with your legs left wide open so that he could have his way with you when he wanted to.”

“Oh,” Evangeline cried out. “You are disgusting.”

“It may not be what you want to hear but I am telling you the truth.” Gwen sighed and looked around at the younger girls, who were eyeing her scornfully. Their daydreaming was being ruined and reality started to settle in with them. “What’s gotten over you all of a sudden?” she asked, turning back and slapping Evangeline lightly.

Evangeline stared at her open mouthed and slowly turned her head towards the castle. She had seen something in the corner of her eye, though when she turned saw nothing.

It was just before dusk; the sun was setting now and gold streaks stretched for what seemed like miles across the sky, blending in with subtle hues of blue and pink. The sky was always more beautiful at this one spot than anywhere else in the whole kingdom. Evangeline herself had seen royalty sneaking away, sometimes, just to steal a glance. They knew there was always a magnificent sight to be seen, and it was ever-changing. One could not go one evening and come back the next and expect to see the same thing. It was as if each time the sky produced a different painting, especially made for the one brave enough to come and watch it.

The rays of sunlight shined on Evangeline’s skin and gave her an inhuman glow. Her eyes were the one thing that was strange about her appearance; they were an odd turquoise looking color, blended in with a twinge of brown.

“Oh dear,” she whispered, stepping away. “We should go,” she said fearfully, staring at Gwen. She looked back at the castle cautiously. She felt almost as if...it was pulling her towards it - beckoning her to come. She knew only tidbits of information about the castle and its powers from rumors and whispers...and what was inside it; but whatever it was, it was trying to lure her in. She could feel it.

She broke away from the gate with such aggressiveness that it spooked the others and they quickly climbed to their feet. Evangeline slowly trudged back up the hill, desperately trying to run. Her legs were protesting against the pace at which she travelled. Gwen’s cries to Evangeline were thrown into the wind and went unheard.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, she broke into an urgent run at first, and then began sprinting all the way to the manor. She picked up her dress and slid it back on hastily. “My feet are dirty,” she stated to no one, looking at the bottoms of them. They were completely black with a mixture of green.

She waited patiently for the girls to catch up with her. For some reason, she couldn’t find the strength to walk into the manor by herself. Gwen’s golden hair was the first thing Evangeline saw, and then a line of smaller girls.

“What was that?” Gwen asked breathlessly, as she reached Evangeline, placing a supporting hand on her shoulder. Evangeline shuddered and looked towards the window of Eleanor’s office.

“Never mind that,” Gwen stated, knowing she would find out later, “go speak to your aunt now.”

She nodded and ran past the garden and all of the chickens and into the manor. A shiver ran down her spine when her feet hit the cool wooden surface of the floor; she slowly walked down the hallway to Eleanor’s office and knocked gently on the door. It was the second room on the right, beside the large silver mirror.

“Come in,” a woman's voice stated.

She opened the door, expecting to see what she always saw: two large wooden empty chairs, Eleanor’s oak desk, her writing utensils, and a shelf filled with books. When she entered, she looked first to the grand fireplace underneath the picture of Eleanor’s mother, who ran the manor before she passed away, and then to the thick carpet on the wooden floor, which never failed to make the girls feel warm and safe. After looking around to make sure everything was like it was supposed to be, Evangeline was shocked to see two people she had never met in her entire life; a young man, who was devilishly handsome, with brown ringlets around his face, and deep green eyes.

She noticed right away that his hands were large and calloused (Eleanor had taught her to always look at a person’s hands to see what rank they held). She knew then that he was a working man and of no great importance and that she did not have to fear him. Her first conclusion had been that he had seen her and the girls running half naked, until she remembered Gwen had told her Eleanor wished to speak with her before any of those events took place. He wore a simple white shirt and brown breeches. He smiled warmly at Evangeline and she curtsied to him. The other stranger was an elderly looking woman, wearing a gray, wool looking shawl over a black dress; her hair was completely white and she was hideous in Evangeline’s opinion. And obviously not important. So it surprised her greatly that such people were in Eleanor’s office. Eleanor almost always dealt with royalty.

“Who are you?” she asked rudely; afterwards remember her place and casting her eyes downwards.

“My name is Henry,” the man answered kindly. His voice was low and deep, which somehow matched his persona perfectly.

“’Tis a pleasure to meet you,” Evangeline greeted meekly, stealing a quick glance at Henry before looking back down; her eyes wandered over to the desk and she gulped.

She knew her aunt was angry; her nostrils were flaring and her hands were gripping the desk as she looked up at the two visitors sweetly. “I’m terribly sorry, but do you mind if I speak with my niece in private, for just a moment?”

Henry nodded and Evangeline looked up at him, her eyes pleading for him to stay. He hesitated a moment before clearing his throat and looking back to Eleanor. “Of course, I’ll escort the wit-”

“Ahem,” Eleanor said, cutting her eyes up at him.

“I mean, the lady, I’ll escort her out.” He grabbed the old woman’s arm and pulled her up. She looked at Evangeline for the first time, a grimace on her old face. Evangeline stared after them as they left, with her heart pounding in her head.

“Evangeline,” Eleanor spoke. “Come here.”

Evangeline’s mouth fell open and she stared at her aunt in horror. “Please,” she said, placing her hands together in a praying manner. “I can’t take another lashing this week.”

Her aunt waved her off and beckoned her forward. She did so, cautiously, and when she reached the desk, her aunt reached out and grabbed her forearms tightly, with a vice like grip. “You foolish girl,” she whispered. “Have you forgotten yourself?”

“I…no…I just…yes for a moment I did,” she answered truthfully. “I was…taken aback.”

Her aunt clicked her tongue audibly and motioned towards the chair. She released Evangeline’s arms and picked up her spectacles, placing them on her face quickly.

“I suppose you know why I’ve called you,” Eleanor spoke.

“Yes,” Evangeline answered excitedly. “You’re going to tell me what my duty will be.”

“Where have you been?” Eleanor demanded.

“In the fields…watching the clouds go by,” Evangeline replied. “And…acting…Lisette wrote a play.”

Eleanor huffed a bit and shook her head; a few curls fell loose and curled around her heart shaped face, like a flame. Evangeline had always loved Eleanor’s hair and wished she could have inherited it. It curled in all types of directions and was different hues of red, brown, and gold. Eleanor wasn’t much older than Evangeline, but she made herself look it by dressing in dull high-collared dresses with sleeves that went past her wrists. The only decorations on the dress she wore now were a bit of frilly lace hanging from her sleeves and a pendant around her neck.

“I will inform the king Lisette has been sneaking away again…I don’t want you encouraging him to come back anymore!” Eleanor said, slamming her fist on the desk. “If anything were to happen to him, the blame would all be placed on me, I would most likely be hung and then you would be out on the streets. Just think of that tonight while you sleep.”

Evangeline wondered how she could possibly think of anything while she slept, but kept silent.

“Oh, Eleanor,” Evangeline cried out. “I’m sorry; I don’t encourage him at all. He is lonely at the castle. He has neither brothers nor sisters that he can play with and the prince pays him no mind.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eleanor replied sharply, “he is of royalty and we cannot afford to make foolish mistakes.”

There was a stifled silence that ensued as both women stared at one another. Eleanor’s forehead crumpled up and she took a quick glance back at a surprised Evangeline.

Reaching forward, she let out a sob and placed her hand on Evangeline’s face. “Please, Evangeline, try to behave. I…promised your mother I would take care of you.”

“Am I eligible for marrying the prince?” Evangeline asked desperately, not paying any attention to her aunt’s words. “I don’t think I can take another day of this,” she said quietly.

“You can’t take another day of what?” Eleanor demanded. “You don’t do your chores, you don’t listen, you parade around half naked, you’re rude, you’re wild and you are just like your mother,” she finished quietly, looking down at her desk.

“Shouldn’t I be like my mother? She gave birth to me, after all.”

“Your mother is dead.”

Evangeline shifted in her seat and fiddled with the folds of her dress, not daring to meet her aunt’s gaze. “Life is only a beginning,” she whispered, recalling her mother’s words.

“And death is the only ending.” The two recited it together; and so they were back on friendly terms, for the moment.

“You will be the Queen’s Keeper,” Eleanor stated, shuffling a few pieces of paper around. Her lips were pursed and she appeared extremely agitated.

“Queen Francis? Does this mean my betrothal is off?”

Bright ideas were already forming in Evangeline’s head; she knew if she was close to the queen that would mean being close to the prince, as well.

“No,” Eleanor answered curtly. “This is a different queen. And of course not; no your betrothal is not off.”

Evangeline wasn’t bothered with the last part of her statement. She would find a way out. “But there is only one queen-”

“You have heard of the queen who took over this land many years ago, have you not?”

“Yes, but what is that got to do with anything?”

“You know about the war?” Eleanor asked skeptically; she did not believe Evangeline had been paying attention during that lesson. When had she ever paid attention?

“What? Yes. The war between those beast things…and that stupid fat queen who stole their land right from them after deceiving them and-”

“Hush,” Eleanor hissed. She stole a glance toward her window and then toward the door and leaned in towards her niece secretively. “You must not say such things. And you must tell this to no one. The queen is not dead. She could not be killed…or at least we didn’t think so. But there may be a way…we will see.”

“Then what became of her?”

“She was laid to rest,” Eleanor replied. “And she still sleeps.”

Evangeline scoffed and stood up angrily. “I am to watch a queen sleep?”

She was no longer excited about this whole ordeal; she wondered if Gwen had any better luck. It was most likely. She knew her aunt favored Gwen more than she did her own blood. Gwen was the sensible, smart one.

Eleanor’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared angrily once more. “No! You must not look at her. You will make sure no one enters or leaves that castle at night. Understood?”

“But-”

“Understood?” Eleanor asked firmly.

“Yes,” Evangeline replied, sitting back down, with her head hung low.

“You will have strict rules to follow,” Eleanor said. “One, you must go to the castle every day before dark. Two, you will not leave until it is completely light outside, do you understand?”

“What will happen if I leave early?”

“Expect to be eaten,” Eleanor stated grimly.

Evangeline was taken aback by this and stared at Eleanor incredulously.

“I still have other rules to go over. You must not go to the windows at night. Do not let them see you. You will wear a cape over your face every time you journey to and from the castle. And the number one rule,” Eleanor stated gravely, fidgeting with her glasses, “do not let that light go out.”

“This is absurd…you act as if I could be killed doing this!” Evangeline stated, unfazed.

“Because you can!” Eleanor roared, standing to her feet.

“What would you care? You’re not my mother,” Evangeline replied. She gathered her skirts, stood up and walked towards the door.

“Your mother would have no choice in this matter,” Eleanor replied, a faraway in her eyes.

She stared at the floor a moment, before looking back to Evangeline. “Fetch the old woman for me.”

Evangeline was appalled at her aunt; she would never use something so…general when referring to a person. It wasn’t like Eleanor to reply to anyone as simply “old woman.”

She turned the knob stepped out and jumped when she saw Henry standing right in front of her. “Excuse me, sir,” she stated quietly, stepping by him. She curtsied to the old woman. “Eleanor would like to see you now, madam.”

The old woman nodded and glanced at Henry before going into the office.

Henry and Evangeline remained silent for a minute, carefully observing one another. Evangeline decided she didn’t like the way he stood; he looked too confident to be in such low class. And he had dirt smudges on his shirt – she didn’t like that either. He looked almost as if he was ready to pounce at her and she found it disgusting.

“I never got your name,” Henry stated kindly. “Perhaps you could give it to me.”

She hesitated and thought about giving a smart remark, but decided to give it to him anyways. “My name is Evangeline,” she stated sweetly.

“Well, Evangeline,” he said, smiling a crooked grin. “You have sticks in your hair.”

Her hand immediately went to her hair and she turned away to hide her furious blushing. Her fingers clawed for the sticks and she pulled out one.

“Oh, and I believe…is that…grass?” he asked, pointing to her right side.

She looked at him askance, whilst fiddling with strands of hair. Henry turned a bit and covered his face to keep from laughing and she glared distastefully.

“Is something funny?”

“Yes,” he replied, standing back up straight and coughing a bit. “You had sticks in your hair.”

Her eyebrows knitted up in frustration and she blinked at him. “Yes, well you already pointed that out.”

“Yes,” he answered, laughing, with his hands outstretched. It was as if he was caught up on the fact that she had something in her hair and Evangeline did not like being made fun of at all.

“You are…oh…I don’t even think there’s a word for you, Harry, but if there was it would be something-”

“My name is Henry, actually,” he said, interrupting her.

She sputtered angrily before turning on her heel and stomping off. “I hate men,” she muttered beneath her breath. “If only I didn’t need them.”

“The same goes for your kind, madam,” Henry called after her.

She heard his remark but did not wish to give him the time of day and kept on. Henry smiled to himself and followed her as she went into the dining hall. He watched as she grabbed a piece of bread and an apple from the fruit bowl and sat down in a chair. When she saw him standing in the entrance way, leaning against the frame nonchalantly she jumped out of her chair and dropped the piece of bread.

She leaned down underneath the table to hide her blushing and picked the piece of bread up. “Here,” she said, standing back up. “This is for you.”

He laughed and observed the room. It was simple, with a large circular table and a carpet underneath; there was a chandelier hanging directly above the middle of the table and there were windows surrounding the entire left side of the room, with large panes.

“You don’t seem to belong here,” Henry stated. “It doesn’t have nearly as much…life.”

A “humph” sound escaped her throat and she sat back down. “I don’t,” she said, focusing on her apple. “She’s not my mother.”

“You think because she is not your mother you do not belong here? Since when does blood have to do with anything?”

“These days,” Evangeline replied, biting into the apple, “blood is everything.”

“That’s the problem with our country,” Henry replied with a laugh. He paused and leaned his head forward, almost as if listening to something keenly. “Your aunt wants to see you.”
“How do you-”

“Evangeline!” Eleanor cried out, only moments later. “Come here.”

“How on earth…” Evangeline inquired, looking at him in wonder.

“I have good ears,” was all he told her.

She walked past him, puzzled, and walked down the hallway. To her annoyance, he followed. She sighed out loud and got into the office as quickly as she could.

“Have a seat,” Eleanor stated.

Evangeline did so and folded her hands in her lap patiently. “You will be trained by Henry how to swordfight.”

She laughed out loud in response. Eleanor’s jaw was clenched as she continued. “Your training will take place at day. He will escort you to the castle and you will both remain there until dawn.”

“Wait,” Evangeline cried out. “What do you mean, we both will remain there?”

“Evangeline…please try to listen.”

“There is a certain time you must go, and he would not have time to get back to his own home before nightfall,” the old woman interjected.

“That’s nonsense. It has always been safe to wonder around alone at night. What should we be worried about?”

Eleanor rubbed her temple and her shoulders slumped forward. “Evangeline,” she said wearily. “Henry will answer any questions you may have.”

“Why can’t you just inform me?”

The old woman turned to Evangeline and glared at her reproachfully. “Yes…I see it now,” she stated warily.

Evangeline gaped at the old woman and then at Eleanor, even more baffled to begin with.

“You must go now,” the old woman said calmly.

“Now?” Evangeline asked disbelievingly.

“Yes,” she answered. “The old keeper has died.”
Evangeline’s initial response to the news was shock; she did not want to take a job if there was a possibility she could die. She clasped her hands tightly so that she might stop fidgeting and stared at Eleanor.

“Is there really a possibility I could die?”

On the outside, she appeared calm and reserved. On the inside, however, she was shaking. Her stomach twisted in involuntary knots and no matter how hard she tried, she could not slow her breathing down.

The corners of Eleanor’s mouth twitched as she tried containing her laughter. Her response this time was different, which led Evangeline to believe she had been mocking her earlier. “He died of natural causes, child. You’ll be perfectly safe…” she paused and turned to the old woman. “As long as you stay inside.”

What was it about staying inside that was so important, she wondered.

Evangeline was perplexed even more so than she had been in the first place, but she decided asking more questions would be senseless. Especially when she would have someone with her at all times whom she could interrogate mercilessly.

“I took the liberty of packing your things for you, child,” Eleanor said, nodding to Evangeline.
Evangeline knew it was her cue to leave and she did so. She picked up the bottom of her dress and skipped down the hall. It was eerily silent and the portraits of past family members stared her down. She could feel eyes on her back and shivers ran up her neck.

She heard hushed whispers even she reached her room, unsure of whom it had been – Eleanor, or the paintings.

As Eleanor had stated, there were her things on the bed, neatly folded and waiting. There was a sealed envelope and upon turning it over, she found that it was not from whom she would have expected it to be. The writing was dark, and the letters curved smoothly into one another; the person who wrote it had great confidence. While the name was only a few letters long, it took up the whole surface of the envelope. Instead of picking it up, she placed it in her bag and sat on her bed.

A great sigh came from Evangeline as she stared at all of her belongings. It seemed as though she was saying goodbye forever – not just a night. Something deep down inside her stirred, telling her she was right in that assumption. There were many memories in this room; they were all fragile and could be broken so easily. There was a white feather, sitting on the dresser, just waiting for the wind to steal it away. It was all she had left of her mother.
And then there was the dark brown cape her father had made for her by the local tailor. It was too small now and barely reached past her waist.

She stood up and walked over to the door from which it hung and felt of it gingerly. It was made of wool and it was rough against her soft hands. She removed it from the hook and swung it around her shoulders in one swift motion and tied the string neatly around her neck. She picked up the feather gently; almost afraid her fingers would break it. She looked in the mirror and stuck it in her hair, just above her ear.

I am going to war, she thought.

She gasped when she finally saw that the light was quickly fading outside and hurriedly grabbed her things before dashing out of the room.

Henry was waiting down the hall, with his hands folded neatly behind his back. He tapped one foot and stared outside. It didn’t seem to be impatient to her – just something he was doing to pass time by. He turned swiftly and looked at her, his expression grim. It changed quickly, however and he smiled at her.

“Everything will be okay,” he said, holding out his hand.

She eyed him suspiciously.

You are lying,she thought. Your mouth smiles but your eyes do not.

She gave him her things anyways and walked into the office cautiously. Eleanor stood by the window, staring out into the direction of the castle. She could not see it from there of course, but to Evangeline it seemed her eyes pierced their way through the hills and the forest.

“I am leaving now,” Evangeline spoke. There was a bitter undertone to her voice that Eleanor could pick up on easily. Evangeline felt like she was not being told everything and felt indignant about the whole matter.

“Goodbye now,” Eleanor answered, not looking back. When Evangeline remained in the room, Eleanor turned around, her eyes misty with tears. Her hands were wringing the folds of her dress nervously and her hands were completely white.

“Please go,” she whispered. “Before I break down.”

Evangeline stared at her aunt for a moment, swallowing hard as she backed out of the room. None of it made sense to her; Eleanor was always composed. She had the uncanny ability to hide her emotions well. Evangeline didn’t believe she would be so sorely missed.

She shut the door quietly, though, and turned to Henry. He was now much closer and his breathing was loud. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She turned around to see that he was merely inches from where she stood.

“You smell like the ocean,” she told Henry, after a moment. “I have never been to the ocean.”

There was a faraway look in her eyes and she walked to the door and looked at the last fading rays of the sun. “And I’ll bet it is a sight to behold,” she whispered.

Henry frowned, wondering how on earth she knew he smelled of ocean, yet she had never been.

He stood from behind her now, and his hand clasped the brass door handle. “We must go,” he whispered. “Say goodbye.”

“I already did.”

He opened the door and she stepped out first. He grabbed onto her hand, which had been fumbling with her dress once more, and started running. “What are you doing?” she cried breathlessly as he practically dragged her along the way.

“We must hurry,” he said in between gasps of breath. “And you are a slow runner.”

She scoffed angrily and shook her hand free. He paused for a moment and stared at her incredulously. “We don’t have time… Evangeline. We do not have time,” he cried. There was too long of a pause between his statements that made her suspicious. He was too much of a gentleman to forget her name and had intended to say something else.

She began picking up her skirts and soon forgot what he had said – or rather hadn’t said. She eyed him mischeviously. “I am about to show you who the slow runner is,” she declared, taking off. He stared after her bewildered for a moment, before running after her. Her hair fell loose once more and streamed behind her.

They ran and ran for what seemed an eternity; the hills and patches of muddy grass all seemed to be the same and never-ending. When Henry had finally reached the last slope, where all of the rocks were at the bottom, Evangeline stood at the gate, her hands clasped tightly to the spokes. The iron was cool against her flesh and made her shiver; yet she could not bear to be away from it.

He rolled her things up in the crook of his elbow and rested against the spokes of the gate for a moment. “Are you going to open it?” she inquired, looking to him.

He glanced at the sky, which was now almost completely dark and then back to her. “No. The keeper has to be the one to open it.” There was something strange about the whole ordeal to her. But perhaps it made a bit of sense as to why the keeper should open the gate.

Hesitantly, she pulled at the gate doors. At first, they did not open.

“You must say ‘By God let this keeper pass,’ or it will not work.”

She eyed him skeptically and when she decided he was telling the truth, she took a deep breath and stared ahead. If it didn’t work and he was trying to make her out as a fool, she planned to exact her revenge that night.

“By God, let this keeper pass.”