My Hero?
What If He's Right?
Ophelia bit her bottom lip. William sat across from her, trying his very best not to look directly at her. He was terrified to tell her what he had learned, and she knew it. Fear was literally pouring out of him in the form of sweat on his fair brow.
"Just say it William." Ophelia mumbled, before bringing her wine glass to her lips, and tilting it slightly, to appear as if she were taking a drink. She couldn't bring herself to actually drink.
The boy stammered, stumbled and blabbered before any real words began to form. "He's... I'm sorry Princess, but he's married." William let his head fall down, so his red curls would cover his eyes, shielding him from her reaction.
Any colour that had been in Ophelia's face drained within a second. Her stare was blank, and her eyes were lifeless. And then, she spoke. "You're lying. He can't be married. He loves me. We're engaged!" The princess shot up, and held out her left hand to show him the silver ring around her finger. The light caught the orange gemstone of the ring, reflecting a spot on William's face. She then reached over and tilted his chin up, making him look at her.
"Apparently not." Fig's saucy voice rang through the princess's head. It then took on a much more apologetic tone. "Sorry Princess, that was rude. Do you want a hug darling?" Fig seemed honestly concerned about Ophelia, if her voice was a good representation of her feelings.
Ophelia ignored her, and kept her blue eyes locked on William's dark brown ones. "You're lying." She repeated. Her jaw cletched, and eyes narrowed. It was just a ploy. Just another ploy to make her leave.
William shook his her, and stared at her apologetically. "I'm sorry princess. He's married."
"I don't believe you." She whispered, her teeth chattering, either due to shock, frustration with William, or fear that he was right.
"Then let me prove it." The boy suggested, holding his hand out, as if an attempt to offer some comfort to the heart-broken girl.
The princess stared at him for a moment, utterly confused. "And how do you expect to do that, boy?"
"I'll take you back to the kingdom, show you that he's married, and then, if you insist, you can come back here." William suggested, standing up. "Or, the alternative, you could stay and wait, and years from now he will never show."
Ophelia opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. William shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't even consider the possibility." He began to head to the door, but Ophelia grabbed him by the shoulder before he could go any farther.
"And what if he isn't married?" She asked.
"Then you will never, ever have to deal with me again. I'll leave. Forever." William spoke softly, unsure if he should make eye contact with the girl, or turn away.
"Deeda will be leaving tomorrow. She'll be gone two weeks at the very, very least." She mumbled. "I'll go with you. As long as we're back in time."
William looked back up at her, and shockingly, he smiled. Not a smug smile, or a victorious smile, or a cocky smile, just a little smile, so small that his lips barely curled and never parted. "You're safe with me princess. Four, tomorrow?"
"Four." The princess repeated, and with a nod, the boy left.
******
Never in her life had Ophelia been so anxious. Every hour leading up to her adventure was a month in her mind. The world moved in slow motion, and yet her mind was quick. She'd never felt stranger.
"Detendra is coming in now! Look! Bring up Alexander! Ask if she's spoken to him!" Fig suggested, peering out the window. The look of excitement on her slightly chubby face was very similar to that of a child, eagerly awaiting Christmas morning.
"Don't be foolish. Deeda will just change the subject, start giving me a quiz on the farmers tax or something." The princess said, leaning against the wall next to Fig. "What if he's right?"
Fig shrugged. "Well, maybe it's for the best."
"And what if he's not?"
"Then you have something to look forward to." Fig offered a comforting smile, and wrapped her arms around the princess. Though Ophelia couldn't actually feel the two freckled arms pulling her into a hug, the gesture was still appriciated.
"Hey Fig?"
"Yes Princess?"
Ophelia let out a small giggle. "You are being way too nice to me. It's a bit scary."
Fig stepped back, laughing to herself. "Ah well. You'll cherish that moment. Now come on. Let's hide any evidence William was here. Detendra can't know of your little meetings."
Ophelia nodded, and followed Fig around the room, secretly packing things they'd need along the way. Things Deeda wouldn't notice missing. A brush, a pocket watch the king had left for his daughter, a small satchel, and things that would fit in it. "A few hours... A few days... I'll know." She whispered. "I'll know who's right."
"Just say it William." Ophelia mumbled, before bringing her wine glass to her lips, and tilting it slightly, to appear as if she were taking a drink. She couldn't bring herself to actually drink.
The boy stammered, stumbled and blabbered before any real words began to form. "He's... I'm sorry Princess, but he's married." William let his head fall down, so his red curls would cover his eyes, shielding him from her reaction.
Any colour that had been in Ophelia's face drained within a second. Her stare was blank, and her eyes were lifeless. And then, she spoke. "You're lying. He can't be married. He loves me. We're engaged!" The princess shot up, and held out her left hand to show him the silver ring around her finger. The light caught the orange gemstone of the ring, reflecting a spot on William's face. She then reached over and tilted his chin up, making him look at her.
"Apparently not." Fig's saucy voice rang through the princess's head. It then took on a much more apologetic tone. "Sorry Princess, that was rude. Do you want a hug darling?" Fig seemed honestly concerned about Ophelia, if her voice was a good representation of her feelings.
Ophelia ignored her, and kept her blue eyes locked on William's dark brown ones. "You're lying." She repeated. Her jaw cletched, and eyes narrowed. It was just a ploy. Just another ploy to make her leave.
William shook his her, and stared at her apologetically. "I'm sorry princess. He's married."
"I don't believe you." She whispered, her teeth chattering, either due to shock, frustration with William, or fear that he was right.
"Then let me prove it." The boy suggested, holding his hand out, as if an attempt to offer some comfort to the heart-broken girl.
The princess stared at him for a moment, utterly confused. "And how do you expect to do that, boy?"
"I'll take you back to the kingdom, show you that he's married, and then, if you insist, you can come back here." William suggested, standing up. "Or, the alternative, you could stay and wait, and years from now he will never show."
Ophelia opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. William shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't even consider the possibility." He began to head to the door, but Ophelia grabbed him by the shoulder before he could go any farther.
"And what if he isn't married?" She asked.
"Then you will never, ever have to deal with me again. I'll leave. Forever." William spoke softly, unsure if he should make eye contact with the girl, or turn away.
"Deeda will be leaving tomorrow. She'll be gone two weeks at the very, very least." She mumbled. "I'll go with you. As long as we're back in time."
William looked back up at her, and shockingly, he smiled. Not a smug smile, or a victorious smile, or a cocky smile, just a little smile, so small that his lips barely curled and never parted. "You're safe with me princess. Four, tomorrow?"
"Four." The princess repeated, and with a nod, the boy left.
******
Never in her life had Ophelia been so anxious. Every hour leading up to her adventure was a month in her mind. The world moved in slow motion, and yet her mind was quick. She'd never felt stranger.
"Detendra is coming in now! Look! Bring up Alexander! Ask if she's spoken to him!" Fig suggested, peering out the window. The look of excitement on her slightly chubby face was very similar to that of a child, eagerly awaiting Christmas morning.
"Don't be foolish. Deeda will just change the subject, start giving me a quiz on the farmers tax or something." The princess said, leaning against the wall next to Fig. "What if he's right?"
Fig shrugged. "Well, maybe it's for the best."
"And what if he's not?"
"Then you have something to look forward to." Fig offered a comforting smile, and wrapped her arms around the princess. Though Ophelia couldn't actually feel the two freckled arms pulling her into a hug, the gesture was still appriciated.
"Hey Fig?"
"Yes Princess?"
Ophelia let out a small giggle. "You are being way too nice to me. It's a bit scary."
Fig stepped back, laughing to herself. "Ah well. You'll cherish that moment. Now come on. Let's hide any evidence William was here. Detendra can't know of your little meetings."
Ophelia nodded, and followed Fig around the room, secretly packing things they'd need along the way. Things Deeda wouldn't notice missing. A brush, a pocket watch the king had left for his daughter, a small satchel, and things that would fit in it. "A few hours... A few days... I'll know." She whispered. "I'll know who's right."