The Queen's Keeper

Evangeline and Henry grew accustomed to their new lifestyle and developed a cycle of their own: adventuring out every night, sleeping for most of the day, training Evangeline before nightfall and repeating it all over again. Usually, Evangeline wasn’t one for routine; only, this routine was not as boring as the one life she had lived before; and already that seemed an eternity ago.

Time seemed to stretch on in the strangest way inside the gates. One day would go by extremely fast, and the others, they were slow and seemed to have enough time for three days. Sometimes, the sky would be golden with unnatural colors passing through it; and then other days, it would be red or purple with blue.

Evangeline grew stronger as each day passed, and as she grew older, she seemed to also grow younger. Henry had gained energy he never had, even is his most youthful days. Though he was not much older than she, he had labored considerably more than she could ever dream. Before, his back had been weary and weak. Frown and worry lines had decorated his face. Now, he was truly at his prime. Being at this place made him feel so extremely wonderful that he avoided thinking about the time when he would have to leave.

They frolicked like children in the grass, in their night clothes, picking flowers and whispering secrets to the stars. They swam in the pond behind the castle, and held contests to see who could hold their breath the longest. Or sometimes they would just float, letting their fingertips brush the tips of water lilies and the glittering bodies of fish.

It was a night like this, where they carelessly laughed and acted foolishly, their true purpose of being there forgotten. Truthfully, it had long been forgotten, pushed to the edge of their minds – somewhat there and somewhat gone, tucked safely away. “Henry, could I die now, like this?” Evangeline asked, staring up at the sky. Her hair fanned out about the grass, and her hands clutched lumps of flowers. Her dress fluttered in the wind and she smiled softly, closing her eyes.

Henry rolled over and laughed, his eyes wandering over her. “You should die an old woman, Evangeline,” he whispered, “old in your bed, with the window open and a light breeze blowing in, and… with the scent of flowers strong in the air. You’ll have a content smile on your face, like you do now. And your husband, he’ll be waiting with a dagger by his side, ready to commit suicide when you leave him eternally.”

She laughed drunkenly, and opened her eyes. “What a terrible way to die, Henry! Who wants to grow old and have wrinkles? I want to be young forever. And if I die, not when, but if, I should like it to be outside, in a field like this. And I would be dancing. And… and well, I suppose I would want my lover to come with me.”

“What? No husband?”

She huffed and shook her head. “I’m against it. I’ve decided: marriage is a silly, worthless burden. I should like a lover and nothing else.”

Henry looked at her knowingly, “you say that now, but you’ll change your mind one day.”

“I highly doubt it,” she answered smugly, “I never change my mind.”

He leaned closer, and rested his head on his hand. “I’d like to prove you wrong.”

“I’m sure you would,” she replied unfazed, “everyone does. It only encourages me though.”

“Well, at least we agree on something for once,” he joked, turning on his back. She sat up, resting on one hand and leaned over him, her hair cascading down onto his face. He scrunched up his nose and started scratching his face furiously, “Stop it,” he laughed, “that tickles.”

She only continued until he grabbed her hair with his hands. “Let go,” she ordered, tugging on it. He ignored her and ran his finger through it gently. His other hand found its way to the nape of her neck and he leaned in closer, his breathing heavy.

“What on earth are you doing?” Evangeline asked, slapping his hand away and jumping up suddenly. She howled in pain when strands of her hair were ripped out. She stared at him furiously and then stopped off towards the gate.

“I—I’m sorry,” he cried, grasping the bit of her hair in his hand. He blinked and wiped his face with his other hand and stood up, going after her. She was grasping the bars of the gate tightly, breathing as though she had been running for miles. Her hair fell down in her face so that it was impossible for him to see her.

“Evangeline,” Henry whispered, reaching for her shoulder. She shook him off vigorously and turned quickly. He recoiled at the furious look on her face and stepped back hesitantly. Never had he felt so belittled.

“Don’t you know I’m saving myself for the prince?” she spat, stomping her foot. “I’m reserving my heart for him!”

“What does that even mean?” Henry asked incredulously, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, yes,” she stepped forward, pointing her forefinger, “you were going to kiss me, take advantage of me!”

Henry bent over with laughter, shaking his head in wonder. “Really? Somehow I find it hard to believe, you, being taken advantage of? You? If anyone was being taken advantage of, it was me, with your dress hanging of your shoulder and your legs bare – waving hello to me – and that smile! Oh gracious, that smile.”

She looked at him half amused, bewildered and angry all at the same time. “Me? Taking advantage of you, a grown man? I hardly think so.”

“You are just as grown as I am,” he argued, “don’t play that. You’re of marrying age. And don’t pretend to be so innocent. Remember a few weeks ago,” Henry raised the pitch of his voice as to sound like her, “oh my, oh my, that was even more exhausting than making love,” he finished with a high pitched giggle ,raising one leg in the air daintily.

“How dare you!” she screeched, charging at him and pushing him to the ground. She beat her hands on his chest angrily, whilst he just lay there laughing. He wasn’t sure which was funnier – that she thought she was actually hurting him or the look on her face.

“I hate you!” she hollered, slapping him, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Oh, how I do hate you.”

He laughed and grabbed her fists into his own hands, her feeble attempts of escape futile, “Tell me more darling,” he whispered into her ear, “I love the way you scream.”

She screamed and shook her shoulders furiously. “I really despise you,” she spat half-heartedly, already giving up. “I really, really do.”

“Why?” he asked laughing, “Because you wanted to kiss me back?”

She curled up her lips in disgust and pulled herself away with all her might. “Let me go you fool!” she screamed, shaking her arms. He pulled her face down to his with the crook of his arms and kissed her quickly before throwing her off of him.

She screeched and flung herself at him once more; he avoided her by moving to the side and she scrambled up to her feet. “You will be sorry --”

She halted when Henry stopped in his tracks, becoming dead serious. She turned her head slowly, to see a young man standing there in amusement. He wore a simple white shirt, and brown knickers with brightly colored shoes that had gold buckles on them.

“Oh dear!” she exclaimed, falling to her feet, “your highness, I am sorry for this.”

The prince chuckled and cleared his throat, “I’m not king yet. Call me Velkan.”

Evangeline blushed and stood to her feet, looking at a bewildered Henry, who was also rising to his feet. “I was walking by,” Velkan said amusedly, “going for a night stroll, and then, out of nowhere I heard these horrid screams. I thought someone was being killed.” He laughed and grabbed his stomach, “though which one was getting the killing, I am not so sure.” Velkan straightened his hair and eyed Evangeline up and down without shame.

She shifted and straightened her gown, biting her lip. “Please, Velkan, do not inform anyone of --”

He waved it off, “No worries, miss, and sir,” he nodded in Henry’s direction, “As long as you don’t speak of me being here...” he trailed off and beckoned Evangeline closer; she did so without hesitation. The prince was a young man of eighteen, with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. He was thin and lanky and considered the most handsome young man in the land. Because of this, he was horribly confident and arrogant, though he could disguise it well when the occasion called for it.

“You are so exquisite,” he murmured, grabbing a piece of her hair and stroking her face with his other hand, “are you married?” She rolled her eyes another direction, to hide her annoyance. The bastard doesn’t even ask my name.

Evangeline shook her head vigorously, “No, Prince… Velkan, your highness, no, I’m not…” she turned her head a bit and fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. “I do get awfully lonely,” she whispered leaning closer, “he isn’t good company.”

The prince smirked, “perhaps I could show you a good time.” Evangeline smirked to herself, and turned to Henry, whose fists were tightened. He looked as though he were ready to pounce. She ignored him and turned back to the prince, who took her hand into his and planted kisses on her wrist.

“Come with me, my sweet,” he whispered softly, “I’ll take you somewhere you’ve never been.”

Just as he thought she was going to say yes, Evangeline giggled and freed her arm, placing it back at her side. “I’m sure that’s impossible, your highness,” she grabbed the bottom of her dress and lifted it ever so slightly, running her other hand down her leg, “I’ve been everywhere there is to go.”

He stared at her, shocked, as she backed away and turned and ran off, disappearing in the grass. He gawked and stuttered, trying to open the gate; when it didn’t work, he looked expectantly at Henry, who in turn smugly walked off. “Sorry your highness,” Henry called with a grin, “Evangeline, the girl, is dead. She’s just a ghost getting her revenge – a figment of your imagination. Such a horrible temptress she is.”

“A ghost?” he questioned unbelievingly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m afraid so,” Henry told him, “If you consider a dead person who roams the earth a ghost, then your highness, yes, she is.”

The prince, now embarrassed, turned and walked away silently. “A ghost?” he muttered aloud, shaking his head. He thought, I should’ve known. This place is haunted. He shivered and wiped his hands off on his clothes furiously, now ready to get back to his father’s kingdom more than ever. He felt like a fool.

Evangeline hopped up from the grass a few minutes later, laughing madly. “I can’t believe it!” she cried, “the prince… in flesh in blood.”

“Yes, neither can I,” Henry replied blandly, walking past her. “I was terribly disappointed. I thought any man you so passionately sought after would be worth it.”

“And what does that mean?” Evangeline asked angrily, running after him.

“I think you know,” he answered stiffly, walking up the stairs. “Goodnight,” he nodded to her and shut the door.

She shook her head distastefully and thought about following him; she then decided against it. Let him pout, she thought. I don’t care.

She marched back towards the gate, braiding her hair as she did so. With a quick glare back at the castle, and a frightened one at the light still glowing, she stated the required words and hurried out. As always, all of the good feelings went away and she felt quite foolish for her behavior. “Oh my,” she whispered frightened, “if he does tell, Eleanor will whip me.”

She shook her head and laughed, “No, she can’t whip me. I won’t allow it. I’m old enough for marriage and… other things. I’m not a child.”

She turned, her hand still on one bar of the gate. “Oh Henry,” she whispered. “I am sorry.”

She sighed heavily and threw her hair out of her face, suddenly lighting up at the thought of visiting Gwen. “Oh goodness,” she exclaimed, “I haven’t seen her in such a long time.” She was giddy with joy once more; Gwen would know all the right things to say to help her feel better.

Evangeline stepped a few feet away from the gate and stared at the castle a moment; it looked awfully dreadful from the outside, like it was old and decaying.

“Evangeline,” an old woman’s voice said, “Hello.”

Evangeline jumped and turned quickly, breathing rapidly and frightened half to death. She laughed upon realizing the person was no harm to her; though she did stop once she remembered who the person was.

“You,” she shifted uncomfortably, “what are you doing here?”