The Fake Bride

Trinity wished she didn’t have to wake up. But as soon as the birds in the branches began to fill the nearby forest with a chorus of chirps, Trinity could no longer hide there and still be at peace. She realized two things that morning: crying serves as a remedy for a restful sleep, and tears will stick the skin around the eyes together like paste.

Groaning, she stretched to relax her arms and leg, only to find her hair and dress damp and cold. That was what she got for sleeping in a place that was sure to be coated in dews the next morning. The blanket was even more pitiful, though. Not only was it wet, dirt clung to the material, appeared as if Trinity had stomped on it deliberately. Trinity frowned as she held it up to inspect the damages. She sighed. Wren will not like this.

She folded the blanket and held it in her arm, and began toward the palace. Before heading for her room, Trinity made a stop at the well to wash her face and spatter her hair to rub off the dirt. Later, she went into her room and changed into a fresh blue dress. She opened the door, alas, to find Wren standing on the other side, her arms crossed; her face resembled an enraged mother who found her daughter coming home covered in mud.

“Where have you been all night?” she inquired, her voice threatening.

Trinity picked at the hem of her sleeve nervously, replying, “Nowhere in particular.”

Wren shook her head hopelessly at Trinity, and sighed, “I know you needed time alone, but next time be sure to inform me of your where about, all right?”

Once again, she had made Wren worry. She had always been indebted to the quirky maid ever since she entered the palace many years ago. At the time she was the only one, beside the princess, who dared to approach Trinity—fearlessly.

Though many might have forgotten, the first few months following her arrival, young Trinity had been avoided like a plague. Rumors had circulated through the palace that a child of questionable background had been generously taken in by the princess Farsiris. They had whispered, as she had strolled by innocently enough, words of suspicions and contempt for the child that had done nothing with endeavor to deserve a place in the Royal Court. Trinity, at the time, had only bowed her head in shame. Wren, however, had gone out of her way to slap Trinity silly and admonished her mercilessly. The other girl had only been ten while Trinity was seven.

Afterward, she realized Wren’s harsh words were only her frustration at Trinity’s diffidence toward the vile assumptions said about her.

Wren, in short, was the older sister she never had.

“With that said, let’s get to work or else Gloria will throw a fit again.” Wren beckoned for Trinity to follow.

While on their way, Trinity noticed Wren had purposely left out any mention about the princess. She must have known Trinity had been the one sustaining the most shock after last night’s incident. Trinity was grateful for Wren’s thoughtfulness in not pressing her to talk. Quite frankly, she was in no mood to talk.

The day went by drearily as Trinity performed her tasks of changing flower vases and fixing beds. She had seen the king and queen in their throne room, old and tired. The princes couldn’t be found in the yard, practicing sword fight today. Trinity couldn’t bring herself to see the princess. Instead, she occupied her time by taking up other servants’ duties. They were none too quick to lighten their work loads.

Before long, she was back to the field behind the palace, waiting for the sun to set for another day. The sight of a sky tainted with tinges of red and yellow resembled the dawn she had witnessed with the princess. Yet, it was a sad shade of colors, reflecting her sorrowful state of mind.

If only she could do something—no matter how small. It would be a support to the princess and Trinity’s salvation. But she had nothing. If only her devotion and love for the princess could be exchanged into something useful, there would be, no doubt, plentiful.

Frustrated, she clutch at a clump of wild grass at her feet, pulling its roots out of the soil. With a faint gasp, she looked down, realizing what she had done. The poor thing hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet she was pouring her anger out at it. Gently, she patted at the dirt, burying the roots so they would continue to thrive once again.

Then she stopped and stared. Clovers. A thought flashed in the back in her mind, and then it dimmed again. She stared at it harder, wondering why she had the oddest feeling, as if it should be quite clear of what she was seeking.

What had she been seeking all along? A miracle? A wish? Or merely a slight grain of hope.
She wanted a clover, not just an ordinary clover—a four-leaf clover.

With it she had a chance of proving to the princess that the world was full of possibility. If she could find a rare four-leaf clover among a vast meadow of the same clovers of the same likeness, the princess’ situation wasn’t completely hopeless.

She knew what she was doing was foolish—ludicrous, even. But she had thrown out all reasons, because all they had done so far was making her miserable. She remembered one instant in the past when the two of them crouched on this very spot, searching curiously for a magical clover that they had read about in a book they found in the library. They were determined to find one, believing the tall-tale to be true and that their wish would be granted.

They never did. However, the magic wasn’t in its omnipotence; it was their strong faith and trust that made it so wonderful and real.

Trinity wanted to be a child, to once again experience the innocent of childhood, to dream without doubts or worry. So she gathered her sleeves neatly into folds and dug her hands through the shrouded leaves. As the sun slowly made it way to touch the edge of the sky, Trinity’s hands rummaged through patches of leaves, of which seemed to go on forever. Separating one stem from another, she counted in her head, her eyes darted about hastily.

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

One…She stopped abruptly, feeling the dread returning like a wave washing ashore, sweeping away what little hope she had had the moment before.

It was impossible after all. How could she expect to find something that didn’t exist?

Enervated and drained, Trinity collapsed on the grassy bed as the cold air began to seep through her skin, dissipating the sweat that beaded on her skin. She felt pathetic and useless. Her hard work had not paid off no matter how long she tried. The tears swelling up in her eyes threatened to fall as she stared at the diminishing light, slowly veiled by the darkness of twilight.

“What do I do?” she heard herself whisper aloud. And, honestly, she had not a clue.

With eyes squeezed shut, she turned to her side, letting the cold evening engulf her being before her tears could. As she blinked away the moist tears, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, just in time for something to catch her attention. With a jolt, she sprung to her knees, her gaze wide with disbelief. She could hear her heartbeat hammering in her rib cage, pulsing through her veins with trepidation. Reaching out her hands nervously, she gingerly pushed away the few clovers surrounding one single clover.

A four-leaf clover.

Immediately, a smile broadened on her lips, her face lit up jubilantly. She plucked at its stem and laid it delicately in her palm, bring it to eye level. Trinity could hardly believe herself. She stared at it for a long time, inspecting each leaf with uncertainty. Anyone who could have seen her with bulging eyes and a silly grin would surely think her mad.

“Why are you sitting in the cold?” Trinity would have hesitated to turn around at the voice, but she was too exuberant to pay it any notice.

She whipped around, facing Princess Farsiris, who stared at her with those blue eyes of hers that had felt like ice to Trinity. Without Trinity to look after her, the princess’ hair was flying loose in the wind, her shawl draped over her arms, giving her little protection from the bitter wind.

“Your Highness,” Trinity said breathlessly. She rose to her feet, pacing her time toward the princess. She was hesitant to come close; she could not handle it if the princess were to reject her again. But strangely enough, Princess Farsiris was the one who was hesitant.

“No, don’t come any closer, please.” Her voice sounded panicked. “I…I want to tell you something, so stay where you are.”

When Trinity didn’t answer, the princess continued with a sigh. Her gaze did not meet Trinity’s when she spoke.

“What I did to you last night…I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I…I’m sorry.” At this point, her voice had grown, intensified with her desperation. As if out of an act of shame, she covered her face with both hands, her voice no more but a muffle. “I know full well that it isn’t your fault. None of it is. I was looking for someone to blame. You are always kind and loyal to me, and yet I betrayed you in the cruelest way. If you won’t forgive me, I would understand. Oh, how could you forgive me…”

The princess was interrupted, suddenly aware of a gentle touch on her hands. Trinity, with all her love, smiled at her princess, as she removed the princess’ hands from her tear-streaked face. “Of course I forgive you. I could never hate you for anything.”

“But…after what I have done…”

“I would still be on your side no matter what.”

The perplexed lines on her forehead creased, as her gaze was fixed on Trinity with relief and, at the same time, confusion. The tears that dwelled in her blue eyes glistened with regret. She gripped at Trinity’s hands, sobbing. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”

Trembling, she stroked Trinity’s cheek, at the spot where her slap had left a thin lash on the mending skin, still red in discoloration. “I’m sorry. It must have hurt.”

Trinity only shook her head, as she would always do whenever the princess blamed herself. “It doesn’t hurt. Not at all,” she said, finally brought her closed fist to the princess’ attention. “I want you to see something I’ve found.”

“Yes, what is it?” she asked quizzically. Trinity unfurled her fingers one by one, revealing the little clover that lay underneath, each leaf shuddered at her movements.

Princess Farsiris looked at it for a long moment, confused at how she should react. Then a low gasp escaped her lips, all the wonders in the world transformed her expression. “Oh…no…I can’t believe it,” she murmured incredulously.

“Do you remember how we once tried to find one because we thought it has magical power to grant wishes?” Trinity started. “I know that it is no more but a myth, a make believe. However, I want you to believe”—she paused, feeling the emotion swelling in her voice—“believe that anything is possible. If I could find this clover, you, of all people, will not be defeated easily by the cruelty of fate. You will be able to change it, and know that I’ll be with you—always.”

When Trinity had expected a smile—the very reason why she spent time crawling on the ground—the princess burst into tears once more. Ignoring the filth on Trinity’s hands, the princess held them to her head, bending so that they slightly brushed at the curve of her nose. Her tears fell in drops and trickled into Trinity’s palms.

“Thank you, Trinity. Thank you,” her words tumbled as she said between sniffles. “I am forever grateful.”



“I used to grow up, believing that I will one day be Damon’s bride,” the princess muttered as her head laid on Trinity’s shoulder, leaning against the bed frame. “I love him since the very moment we first met.”

Somehow, the circumstance had led them to find refuge in the princess’ room after Trinity had returned and placed the clover in a small basin of water on the mirror table. Princess Farsiris had refused to take another step outside, despite having managed to escape any on-seer attention when she tried to find Trinity. Still, Trinity was glad that the princess took solace in Trinity’s presence.

“Do you know I was the one who initiated my betrothal to him?” The princess’ maid smiled discreetly at this. Anyone who had lived here as long as Trinity have, would remember a thirteen-year-old Princess Farsiris who had stormed into the throne room and audaciously requested the earl’s hand in marriage. Poor old king had almost lost his footing and slipped on the stairs. It even came as a surprise to the earl. Everyone had thought the naïve princess was losing her mind, but one way or another, the king could only consent to his favorite daughter’s recklessness.

“He did not resist the proposal at all. He only did what he always did. He smiled and accepted,” she said sadly. Trinity glanced briefly at the princess, whose change of attitude was alarming.

“And then the other day, when I expected him to be opposing, he merely…gave up,” she said bitterly. “Sometimes I wonder if I were the only one who is deeply in love. What if it had all been a lie? What if he had never loved me at all? That he was only with me because I’m the princess?” She exhaled feebly, and said what, Trinity thought, had been haunting her all this while. “Why didn’t he, at least, act like he cared?”

“That cannot be,” Trinity stated adamantly. She knew for a fact that Earl Parlem would do anything for the princess. The love he had was not as shallow as a pond; it was as vast and bottomless as the ocean itself.

“Believe in him, Princess. He will be by your side soon. I know it.”

The princess managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Trinity. You are always kind-hearted.”

Outside the window, a soft clatter sounded as if something had tapped against the glass panels, alarming them both. They watched as a small, pebble-like object rose into the air, hit its mark, and dropped under gravity weight. Trinity was the first to realize what it was. She threw the window open, stepped out into the balcony, and looked down into the yard. Her heart almost stopped beating when she saw the face that stared up at her.

Earl Parlem.

Sitting before the gate, the guard snuggled in his ragged quilt, dreaming of the comfort of his home, oblivious to the earl’s intrusion at the late night notice. She dashed down the corridor, the stairs, and silently opened the gate.

“Good evening, Trinity. I hope I am not being a bother.” The Earl smiled, though he appeared rather distressed. The black circles around his eyes suggested to her that he, possibly, had not slept through the last few nights.

“You are in time, actually, My Lord. Please come in.”

He nodded courteously and made his way up to the princess’ room. As soon as he stepped in, Princess Farsiris collapsed into his arms, tears flowing from her already swollen, red eyes. Not even a word came out from either of them as he wrapped his arms tightly around her protectively. But that was, Trinity sensed, enough for them to understand one another’s thought. The earl had been as tortured and lonely in the short period they spent apart as was the princess. Trinity sighed, feeling emotional herself; she couldn’t imagine how the princess felt that moment.

Shifting quietly to the candle lights—as not to disturb them—she blew out a few lit ones, leaving the room now submerged in a dim but soft glow. Closing the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of the earl stroking the princess’ hair as he whispered words that were only meant for her ears—the one he loved.