Fighting for Freedom

The next morning I got up and headed to the west wing of the castle for my studies as usual. I knocked on the door and entered. I found my tutor, Sir Julian, asleep in his chair, an open book in front of him. I looked over at my table and saw it empty. Sir Julian usually had a pile of books ready for me to study for the day. This was most unusual.

I walked over to Julian and gently tapped his shoulder. He woke with a start and looked around frantically. When he saw me he rubbed his eyes and sat up straight.

“Princess Lydia, what are you doing here?” he asked with a perplexed look on his face.

“I am here for my daily lessons,” I reminded him, just as confused as him. How could he forget? I had been showing up here every day since I was nine.

“Oh, did no one inform you? The King has cancelled all your lessons for the month. He wants you to use the time instead, to get to know the princes,” he explained. I let out a sigh. Of course, I thought to myself.

“Thank you for informing me Sir Julian,” I said before walking out, closing the door behind me. I leaned against the wall, not certain of what to do next. I doubted any of the princes were up yet, and I did not want to talk to any of them right now.

I decided I would go and find Dawson. I took the winding stairs that led outside and walked out into the garden to look for him. I was curious as to how the story ended, the story he never finished all those years ago. I turned a corner and spotted Dawson standing under a tree, holding a book in front of him as he bit into an apple. He looked up when he heard my footsteps approach.

“Hello, princess.” he greeted me. I felt a sadness inside. I remembered when he used to call me Lydia.

“Hello, Dawson. I was looking for you,” I said.

“Me? What for?”

“Well, do you remember that story you told me when you first came here?” I asked. Dawson thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes, somewhat,” he answered.

“Well, I was wondering if you could finish it…” I began. He laughed.

“Oh, princess, only you would remember a story and want an ending for it ten years later,” he laughed. “Alright, I shall tell you.” He put his book on the ground and his apple on top.

“Alright, now where did I leave off?”

“It was when the poor man fell into the mud and the creatures were helping him up, but they all ended up falling into the mud,” I reminded him.

“Ah, yes. Well, the princess was looking out of her bedroom window, and when she saw all this, she couldn’t help but laugh. The poor man was brought into the palace, and when the King heard of how he made her laugh, they were wed at once, and they all lived happily ever after,” Dawson finished. I stood there for a minute, confused.

“The King let his daughter marry a poor man?” I asked, skeptical.

“Well, yes. He decreed that anyone who could make her laugh would win her as his bride, and since he made her laugh, they were wed.”

“But…but he’s a poor man. It’s just not realistic,” I said.

“Stories rarely are. Stories are written, I believe, to provide a temporary escape from reality. Poor men can marry princesses, frogs can turn into princes, and animals can talk.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right,” I said, tapping a finger against my chin.

“Is that all you needed, Lydia?” he asked. I looked up at Dawson, surprised.

“You called me Lydia,” I said with a smile. Dawson suddenly became stiff, standing up a little straighter.

“Oh, I am sorry princess, I forgot my manners for a second,” he said politely.

“No, I do not mind. We are friends, you can call me Lydia,” I said, gently touching Dawson’s shoulder. He smiled back, and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a voice calling to him.

"Dawson! The King requests your presence in the castle,” I heard a guard say as he walked up to us. I quickly dropped my arm back down to my side.

“Well, farewell, Lydia,” Dawson said with a bow as he followed the guard inside. I curtsied and watched them disappear inside.

I turned around and followed the garden path that led to the middle of the garden. As I came to the inner court of the garden, where the roses and other flowers grew, I saw a figure hunched over a book sitting on the stone bench in front of the tulips. I walked closer and realized it was the prince I danced with yesterday-Landon, I think his name was. He must be really engrossed in the book, I thought, because he didn’t hear me approach, or even hear me when I stepped next to him.

“Greetings, Prince Landon,” I said. He jumped and dropped his book in the dirt as his hand flew to his chest. He let out a sigh when he saw it was me.

“Oh, princess Lydia, you startled me,” he said. I giggled as I bent down and picked up the book. I opened the book and read the title.

“Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. He writes books too? I thought he only wrote poetry,” I said as I handed Prince Landon his book.

“I did too, but then my tutor gave me this book as a birthday gift last May,” he said.

“Oh? How old did you turn?”

“Twenty-two,” he answered, “So, what brings you to the garden this early in the morning?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, “But to answer your question, I was looking for the court jester, Dawson.”

“Ah, the one who sang yesterday at the ball?” he asked, and I nodded. “He is a most excellent writer, how long has he been the court jester here?”

“Ten years.”

“At my kingdom we have a court jester that’s been in our court for about 40 years,” Landon said. “He is a very good friend of mine, he has been ever since I was ten and he found me hiding in the stables.”

“Why were you hiding in the stables?” I asked. Landon shrugged.

“When I was little I was more interested in riding than doing my studies,” he said with a smile. “I still love horses, but I realized I cannot run from my duty as the next in line for the throne.”

I nodded. I knew the feeling all too well, but it was too grim a topic for so early in the morning, so I decided to change the subject.

“We have very fine horses here, would you like to see them?” I asked. He nodded.

“Sure,” he said. He stood up and tucked his book into a pocket inside his coat. I led Landon through the garden and to the stables behind the castle. I opened the door and led him to my favorite mare, Elizabeth. She had been just a foal when I was ten, and ever since I first saw the heart-shaped white spot on her muzzle, I feel in love with her. I had ordered that no one else ride her, and she had become my horse. I ran my fingers through her mane and introduced her to Landon.

“This is my horse, Elizabeth,” I told him. He reached up and patted her nose.

“She’s a fine horse,” he said. He looked over and saw the new stallion we had bought just last month. He was called Night Spirit because he had so much spirit in him, and with his pure black mane he blended right in with the darkness of night.

“This is also a fine horse. How old is it?”

“He’s six years old, and his name is Night Spirit,” I told Landon. He reached up and ran his hand across his muzzle. “Such a beautiful color.”

“Would you like to ride him?” I asked. “We can go for a ride through the pastures on the east side of the castle.”

“I would love too,” he said.

Landon saddled up Night Spirit then helped me put the side-saddle on Elizabeth. As we rode out of the stables I turned to the guard at the back entrance to the castle.

“Tell anyone looking for me that I am going out for a ride,” I told him.

“Yes, your highness,” he said.

I turned back to Landon to my left on Night Spirit. “Follow me,“ I said. We wove our way down the winding dirt trail and finally came to a wide open pasture. It went on for at least ten miles in all directions. I turned to Landon with a sly smile on my face.

“I’ll race you to the end of the pasture,” I said, taking off without waiting for him to reply. The only sound that could be heard was the thundering of hoofs on the dew filled grass. I was ahead for a good half of the race, but then Night Spirit pulled ahead, which was no surprise, considering he was a stallion. When we finally reached the edge of the pasture, where a wooded trail began, Landon was a good ten feet ahead of me.

“Good race, princess Lydia,” he said, holding out his hand. I smiled and shook his hand.

“Likewise.” Suddenly there was a low rumbling in the distance and I looked upward to see the sky turning a dark color as gray clouds rolled in. It was about to rain. Suddenly, I felt a water droplet fall on my nose.

“We should get back to the castle before the storm gets worse,” I said to Landon, and he nodded in agreement. We raced back to the castle, when halfway across the pasture we got caught in the rain. Thousands of tiny raindrops slapped my face as we galloped through the empty field, making them sting as they hit my skin. When we got to the wooded trail it provided some coverage, but the raindrops still fell through the breaks between the trees branches. By the time we got back to the stables we were both soaking wet. My usually unruly hair was matted against my face and hanging in strands of clumps around my eyes. I laughed as we dried the horses off and took their riding gear off.

“I haven't had that much fun in such a long time!” I exclaimed. Landon let out a laugh too.

“I agree.”

When we finished grooming the horses we put them back in their stalls and ran from the stables to the back entrance to the castle. I saw the guard hold back a laugh when he saw us. I walked in front of Landon and led the way back to the guest rooms, when I suddenly ran into my father when I turned a corner. When he saw me soaking wet in my dress, trailing a small pool of water behind me his face turned pink.

“Lydia! What are earth are you so wet and filthy for?! This is unbecoming of a princess, much less a future queen! I thought I taught you better than tha-” Suddenly his rant was cut short when he saw Landon step up behind me.

“Oh, Prince Landon, I did not see you there,” my father said, turning red from embarrassment instead of wrath as he gave him a slight bow. Landon bowed in return.

“I am sorry, your majesty. I wanted to go for a ride and Lydia and I got caught out in the storm. Please accept my apologies.” My father’s eyes lit up when he heard that we had been on a ride together, and a small smile passed his lips for a second, but then he regained his indifferent look.

“Ah, yes…well, it is quite alright,” he said to Landon, then he turned to me. “Lydia, return to your room and put on a fresh dress, we will be having lunch soon.” With a turn of his heels he set off down the hall. I turned back to Landon with a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Landon,” I said with a smile. He nodded and set off down the hall to his room. As I entered my own room a few minutes later I couldn’t help but think that maybe having the princes here wasn’t such a bad thing after all, or at least in Landon’s case it wasn’t.