Painting.
What does a painting mean? I stand and walk back over to the table where the folder of stolen artwork images lay and start to flick through them. I’ve never really looked at the pictures carefully before. The first is a woman with long dark wavy hair. She’s in bed, and I narrow my eyes as I think. She’s sexy and her blanket is strategically placed. My eyes look at the room surrounding her. The bedroom is luxurious and I hold the paper up close to study it. I would say it’s around the seventeenth century based on the furnishings.
Hmm. I flick to the next painting to see it’s a woman sitting outside on a chair. She has dark hair that is an elaborate up style and is wearing a beautiful red evening dress. Her back is ramrod straight and she is wearing a corset, her breasts high in her low cut dress. This woman has money and she appears to have social stature. She’s wearing a ring and I hold the printed paper up to my face.
Hang on. That’s my ring.
Huh? I hold my hand up to look at the ring on my hand. They must have been common back in the day. What a crazy coincidence. I flick to the next picture and frown. It’s a lead pencil drawing. I put my hand over my mouth in shock. It’s of a young girl I’ve seen before. She’s smiling and sitting on the bed of a creek.
It’s Elizabeth.
Henry drew this.
Oh my God. Tears form.
My book isn’t imaginary.
It’s real.
I look to her hand and she also has a ring on as mine. Goosebumps scatter my skin I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears and the room starts to spin. I flick through all of the paintings at double speed. All women, all have the same ring on.
My ring.
I hold my hands over my mouth as I begin to pace. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. What does this mean?
I met him when I was buying this ring.
I stand at the window and look at the raging storm outside. The rain is really coming down and I get a cold shiver run through me. As I stare into the darkness, I see Henry as clear as day, and happiness fills me. He is holding Elizabeth in his arms. Only this time, I am Elizabeth. I can feel his arms around me.
“I love you,” he whispers.
I feel happy. “I love you, too.”
Oh my God.
* * *
I run to the table and quickly shuffle through my box of letters from the guard to his princess. I have held off reading this letter because it is the last one and I just know that something has happened to them. Why did the letters stop?
* * *
My beloved Princess.
You are in danger, my love. I need you to be brave for me.
Alchron stands with the king as they assess the latest letter of demands. Ulysis, the king from another county, has demanded that they hand over the princess to be his wife or he is going to overturn the kingdom, kill the people of the village, and take her anyway. Alchron’s heart is in his throat. He knows their army is bigger and their weapons are greater.
The threat is real.
The King paces back and forth deep in thought. “What should we do?” he asks his trusted guard. “Maybe we should let her go.”
“No!” Alchron snaps. “She will not become that animal’s wife. I will not hand her over.”
“But so many innocent people are going to die if we do not. There will be war.”
Alchron stands and stares out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “Then we prepare for war.” He growls.
* * *
Seven nights later, in the middle of the night.
* * *
Alchron and the Princess are woken by the sound of screams in the village and nearby explosions. Alchron runs to the window to see the incoming enemy army breaking the castle gates down. Fires and mayhem can be seen for miles.
They are under attack.
“Get dressed!” he yells to the princess.
“What’s happening?” she cries.
“They are here for you.”
“No,” she cries as she frantically dresses.
He grabs his sword and his precious princess, and they run down the stairs two at a time to the sound of the guards and uproar as the alarms across the palace ring out. The windows start to smash with bombs of bright fire.
“My father,” she cries.
“He has his guards,” Alchron replies as they run down the stairs. “I need to get you out of here.”
His heart is hammering. He knows this will be a fight to the death. They burst out through back door of the castle where the fastest horse in the county has been saddled in preparation for this instance, and he throws his princess onto its back. He climbs on in front of her and he whips his horse hard. “Yah!” he cries.
“Hold on!” he calls.
The princess cowers into her love’s back as she holds on for dear life. He races at full speed out of the back gate and down to the meadow. He needs to keep her safe. He will do anything to keep her safe. The enemy army spot them and make chase, the sound of the horses pursuing them rumbles through the ground below.
What does he do? He wonders as he rides like the wind. What does he do?