The Other Queen

April 20, 2010
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Alexandria, the known late Queen in a far off region. I was named after her, along with the hope that someday, I will find a greater future, work to achieve a better future. But who am I? I am no queen nor royalty. I do not have rich blood of an aristocrat flowing through my veins. I’m not the daughter of a rich merchant, or of a wealthy business man. I am not an apprentice of a trade. I am not even a peasant, begging for food and money. Worse, I am a servant.

I remember that day. I remember everyday that I served him. I would always be there promptly, even waiting for the clock tower to sound the bells of morning, already dressed.

I know his schedule like clockwork. Sometimes I switched shifts with the elderly servants to be close to him. Although I limit the number of changes or else it would look suspicious. He’s just so kind to me, although we have never spoken to each other. He would always have that smile that would never leave. He had it on when he’s on good terms with the King or had a great day in general.

They’ve been at each other’s thoughts ever since the Queen Mother died. I never saw the Prince look so heartbroken. I asked servants who go outside the Gates to bring me mementos and so I can send it to the Prince, anonymously of course.

I can’t say I truly loved him. But then again, I never knew what true love was all about. I’ve seen servants fall in love and get married. I’ve heard stories from outside the Gates about Love and people’s encounter with it. Of course, I was born by Love but there was little time since the entire workforce was busy. I remember the hugs and kisses on the cheek or head. That never happened after I was able to serve. That was different from real Love.

I remembered that I sometimes asked myself why people search far and wide for Love. It’s a waste of time and should instead be focused on work. But he changed it. His smile, his laugh. I could only imagine what his touch would be like. Maybe it was firm and soft. He’d be kind and protective. A pacifist who will fight if there is no other alternative.

I think that it was during that time that I was flying with my dreams a little too high.

The Prince’s birthday party. Everyone was going to be there, and that meant one thing in my ears-work. I didn’t mind, truly I didn’t. I knew what colors the Prince loved and which ones were forbidden. I personally changed the menu so that he could eat his favorites.

My time in the castle was on the line. If the King didn’t like this, I would get blamed and worse case scenario is being expelled and going beyond the Gates. It would be worth it if I could make the Prince’s birthday a memorable one by my plans.

I worked with setting everything up. Promptly at sunset, the Gates opened and let the guests in. Lords and ladies, Dukes and Duchesses, Aristocratic names were said as they entered into the ballroom. They were led to their assigned seats, by the Prince’s preference of each guest.

Then came the actual ball. He was saying his greetings to everyone who came. I had to stay in the background. Then she came. Who couldn’t look at her? She looked absolutely heavenly. Her golden blonde hair was ties up masterfully. Her skin was as white as milk and as flawless. Her dress was so grand and brilliant, a shiny blue accented by a white under skirt. Everyone was drawn to her natural beauty. And who escorted her? No one. Who found her? The prince.

That was it. The lights dimmed and all through the night they danced. To their own tune, their melody, their song. I pressed a plate against my chest tightly. It didn’t help stop my tears falling.

I stayed in my quarters for a long time. Crying wasn’t helping me at all. It didn’t fix my birthright. It didn’t help me change who I am. It didn’t help me get the guy I want. But I couldn’t stop. I remember a small servant girl, Sarah coming to my room. She looked at me with those eyes, those green and brown eyes.

She saw me, but in her eyes, I saw myself. A hideous crying young lady. Why were my dreams so high? They were just going to come down as hard. She asked me why I was crying. I told her that I thought I lost something. “What did you lose?”

Those small words had a big impact on me. I looked deep in my situation. I lost nothing. I gained nothing. I am right where I was since I was born. I have no moved an inch. That night, when I tucked in little Sarah to bed, and cleaned up all the pots and pans, I started to think.

I never had told him about me. He has never said a word to me. I am always busy with work and he’s busy with his tutors. So why am I going nuts over him? If this is Love, then I don’t want it. It was midnight of the party. I was leaving with only the clothes that didn’t identify as a servant. I put on a cloak and pulled the hood up.

I told the Guards to open the Gates. For the first time, I was leaving my safety zone and into the unknown. I don’t want this past to identify who I am. I was so intent on going as far as I possibly could from this country. Little did I know that there was a rush of many horses coming my way.

As I was getting trampled by the weight of the horses and hooves, I saw a wave of golden yellow hair. Then it got all still. All silent. All dark. All cold.

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