Thirteen Lullabies | ✓

VIII.II

The sun had just begun to rise when a guard threw open the door to the room in which I was staying. Two of them came in and grabbed me from the bed, throwing me to my feet and pushing me out into the corridor.

I had hardly gotten my legs moving when I was being shoved forward, the guards grunting something I didn't understand. I was so sure that this was it. They had sent that correspondence to the guy's family and he had written back to say that I was a liar.

I would be executed immediately in front of the entire royal family and I would have no chance at getting to you in this lifetime. Would have no chance to get to know you. No chance to learn why your eyes were so sad as you looked down the street of my village, why you didn't turn up your nose at the smell of animals and plague and death like the rest of the royals.

I would be punished dearly, not with a sword. Not with physical pain, but with the mental pain of knowing that I had ruined this chance at being with you by lying.

The guards pushed me up against the door, my face inches from the tall structures. They were pushed open and I was thrown forward again. The moment we made eye contact I knew it was you.

To my surprise, the executioner was nowhere in sight. The king began speaking. "We have not received word that disproves what you said. For this reason, I will allow you to court my daughters. In the case that we find out you aren't who you said you are and have infiltrated the royal family for some nefarious reason, you will be punished and the consequence will be your life. Do you understand?"

All I could do was nod. I was speechless, so in shock that I had managed to pull this off. I had to work quickly, as I was sure they would find out who I was, or rather who I wasn't, eventually.

Next, your father introduced you and your three sisters. You were the eldest, Blanche of Valois. Then there was Joan, Marie and Isabella. Joan and Isabella had similar features, with their small noses, light brown hair and big, green eyes. You and Marie looked leagues different, with that long, silky blond hair and those blue eyes.

You took after your father, clearly, an expression of indifference on your face as each of you were introduced, as if you couldn't care less about who I was or where I came from. The king requested that I spend half an hour with each of you to determine who I would be best suited for. Chaperoned, of course.

I attempted to get to know you, figure out what personality you took on in this life, but it was as if you were more interested in getting back to the palace, a look of annoyance dancing across your face.

"What do you most enjoy about life here?"

"Not being forced to do things I don't want to do." I couldn't help but feel you were taking a jab at me. Knowing you felt this way, I promised myself that if I couldn't get you to feel what we felt every time before, I would leave you to the rest of your life, not constrained to do anything you wouldn't want.

It would have most likely been for the best anyways, seeing as I am the reason you are forced from one body to the next, sent to the afterlife time and again because I am unable to protect you.

When we returned to the palace from the gardens, you walked away quickly, grabbing the hand of your youngest sister, Isabella, as you left.

Next was Joan, and she all but threw herself into my arms. As we made our way through the gardens, I attempted to learn more about you through her.

"How old is Blanche?"

"Vingt. Almost twenty-one. I'm eighteen. Et vous?" She fluttered her eyelashes at me and tightened her grip on my arm. A look behind us told me our chaperone did not look too happy, eyes squinting at our proximity.