Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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Once Olly had left I drifted towards the kitchen, a desire to see Madeleine popping into my head. I yawned as I sat down, resting my head on the great oak slab of a table.

Poor oak tree.

How do you know? It might have wanted to be a table.

Would you want to be a table?

No, but-

Hah.

I really, really, really don’t like you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Cherie,” Madeleine said, beginning to chop an onion across the table.

“Sorry,” I said, smiling at her.

“So how have you been?” she asked, her knife moving at record speed.

“Alright.”

“And how’s your engagement to the Earl?” she continued, “I hear you went out with him the other evening.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, puzzled.

“The maids know everything!” she winked.

“Princess Diaries 2?” I asked.

“What else?”

“Great film.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh, it was good fun,” I answered.

Madeleine hummed thoughtfully, scraping the onion off the board and into a saucepan, beginning again on a dozen carrots.

“You like him a lot don’t you Cherie?” she asked.

I blushed, and my eyes began to water from a waft of onion.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed.

“He is very nice,” I said, half to myself.

“Oh, there are worse you could fall for,” Madeleine answered.

“Like?”

“It was just a generalisation Cherie.”

“Oh, ok.”

“So, are you going out again, together?”

“Maybe,” I said, wondering about the ‘surprise’ James had talked about organising.

Please, no candles.

Oh! I like candles.

“No definite date set?”

“Sounds like I’m getting married,” I laughed.

“Well, it would make the press happy.”

“It’s on my priority list, sir!” I mock saluted.

“Don’t let other people influence your decisions,” Madeleine replied sagely.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good, now, shouldn’t you be at Riding?”

“Oh!”

I leapt up, and shot out of the kitchen, reappearing just in time at the stables. Peter smiled at me and handed me Freya’s saddle.

“Do you fancy testing out some jumps? We’re setting up a bit of a course for the Royal Family of Lorainya’s visit,” he explained.

“Sure, sounds fun,” I replied, saddling up Freya.

“We’re over on the second field. I’ll meet you there in a moment,” Peter said, before heading off.

Freya was a little skittish, so I gave her a carrot before we went out. Across from the usual riding paddock lay two fields, one with sculpted dips and curves, for a course to be set up, the other for grazing. Several of the grooms were busy setting up a complicated course and filling up one of the open water stretches. I trotted round to where Peter was standing and dismounted.

“It looks impressive,” I said.

“Thanks Milady,” said the man standing a little way away, “I designed it.”

“Well, congratulations,” I replied, “I’m sure Lorainya couldn’t rival it.”

“Jack Fairfax,” he said, coming over to shake my hand.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I replied, aware that an introduction from me would be weird. Sadly, I’ve never been able to say ‘Do you know who I am?’ because everyone does.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he nodded, moving away to organise one of the last jumps.

I smiled after him, smoothing Freya’s nose as she danced from foot to foot. I frowned and held her bridle as I picked up each foot in turn, checking for something caught in a shoe.

“Is Freya ok?” Peter asked, watching me check her.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “She’s been skittish since I took her out of the stable.”

“Why don’t you ride Anoushka?” he said, frowning, “Freya doesn’t seem well.”

“Ok,” I said, walking back with Peter to the stables.

Peter called the vet then helped me with Anoushka’s tack. By the time we had saddled her and ridden back to the field, the course was set up and ready, apart from the ditch only being half full. Trying to push Freya out of my mind, I trotted to the start of the track.

“I’d be careful round jump 3,” advised the designer, “I’m not sure the angle is right.”

I nodded, buckled my riding hat a little tighter and taking my switch from Peter. I clicked to Anoushka and we set off round the course. A little nervous at the first jump, because I’d never jumped Anna before, but she went straight for it, which settled my stomach. Jump 3 was fine, despite what Fairfax had said. She shied at the seventh, but went over it once I’d turned around and come at it from slightly to the left. The rest of the course was very good, and certainly a challenge. Anna was out of breath by the time we finished.

“Seventh needs turning to the right,” I said, as Peter and Fairfax came over.

“Duly noted milady,” said Peter, smiling, “Was Anna ok?”

“Very well behaved,” I answered.

“Good. Don’t worry about Freya, probably just worms,” Peter reassured.

“ ‘Kay,” I nodded, biting my lip.

I rode off to the paddock, trotted Anna a few times round, cantered a bit, then walked her down. Riding into the stables, I met Felix back from Rous and getting ready for his riding lesson, James sitting listening to him chatter about school. He looked up as I came in and smiled. I smiled back, not concentrating as I dismounted.

My foot got caught in the stirrup, and I nearly fell forwards onto my face.

I hopped, grabbing Anna’s saddle whilst I twisted my foot out.

“You ok?” James asked.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, leading Anna into her stall.

I sighed as I felt the blood begin to seep away from my face; I seemed to have a habit of doing stupid things in front of James. I took off Anna’s bridle and saddle, then grabbed the brushes from the tack room, and began to rub her down. James came in and took a brush from me with a silent smile. My stomach fluttered, and I wondered whether I had worms too…

Ew, that’s just disgusting.

Maybe we’re just allergic to him…

“Where’s Freya?” James asked when he caught sight of my worried face over Anna’s back.

“Vet’s looking at her,” I replied.

“She ok?”

“Bit skittish, which isn’t like her.”

“Oh,” James said, then sighed thoughtfully.

I went back to brushing, then looked for the hoof pick.

“I swear you’re crazy, taking Felix out,” I said after a moment.

“Nah, just a little senile.”

“Wonder what we’ll be like at 80,” I laughed.

“Well, if I’m not senile, I’ll pretend,” James answered.

“But then your grandchildren would lock you up!” I cried.

“Who says I’ll have grandchildren?” James asked, “Bona-fide bachelor, that’s me.”

“Well…” I mumbled, thrown off.

“Only joking,” James laughed, “If I find the right girl, maybe…”

There was a moment’s silence, broken only when Anoushka farted. I burst out laughing, James following suit. I managed to stop, only to catch sight of James’ face and begin again.