THE KING’S STOLEN BRIDE

It was late in the evening but not too late to find myself walking through the garden lost in thought as I trailed my fingers over the delicate petals of the Maiden’s Blush rose. This was my favourite part of the garden, where the roses grew wild and free... everything I hoped to be.

I still remember the first time I fell in love with roses; the maiden blush rose in particular; I had seen it in an old oil painting in my father's library. They were beautiful, with a soft pink hue that stood out against the dark wood that framed the image. It somehow reminded me of what I thought life as a girl should be like… Beautiful and peaceful. That day before retiring to my chambers, I begged Mrs. Norton, the head gardener, to find them and teach me to plant them, which to my surprise she was more than happy to oblige.

Mrs. Norton was my wet nurse and nanny. I believe she was the same for my sister before me, but Annalise, our last was nursed by another. Marianne, who was now my maid. She was said to have lost her child at birth. Even though mother always dismissed them as nothing but lowly peasants to me they were always more than that. Mrs Norton was more a mother to me than mine would ever be, she taught me to nurture something fragile into something breathtaking and even more to be the Lady I now was.

In the distance, I spotted a mail coach departing the estate gates, Father must’ve written home and that never went well. Watching the dust rise in the wake of the coach’s departure caused dread to curl in my stomach, Mother had been in a particularly bitter mood last night. Something had happened to have set her off, though I did not know what yet, but this would only make matters worse.

I never should have lingered so long in the garden. My pulse raced as I made for the house.

This was my prison, the Aldridge estate, my hell, and purgatory all in one. A thousand times, I wished to be anything but nobility for there was nothing noble about those who bore the title. There was nothing noble about a mother who loathed her own child or a father who would hand you down like a goat to the slaughter still, I gathered my skirts in my hand as I hurried down the halls to my room wishing the heavens for a way to escape it all.

If only I could run away and never look back.

If only I could leave all this behind

But not without Annalise. I could never leave my little sister behind, not to the same fate.

She is ten now, and in a few more years she will come of age. I was only sixteen when he-

No.

I pushed those thoughts back to the far end of my mind as I pried the doors to my room open wishing almost immediately that I didn't.

Mother was waiting. Sat upon my bed with her hand fan and a glass of wine twirling lazily between her fingers.

A maid perched by a corner holding a bottle most likely to refill her cup should it go empty, her presence here was as useless as a shadow but wouldn't blame her, can't really, that's just how it is with them, always there watching but never interfering.

Finding my voice I spoke, "Greetings Mother, hope you are well?"

“It is I who should ask you that Aurora. Where are you coming from?”

If my heart could race any faster it would, I knew the wrong answer would only make things worse.

“I- Mother I was-”

"Don't even think about lying to me."

Her narrowed blue eyes kept my words with me; they were the only thing we shared in common.

"I mean… Look at you.” She sneered; her eyes raked over me with disdain. “Ungroomed. Unruly. It is no wonder no one else has come for your hand, I mean, what mother would let her son marry a woman who exudes such- such-?”

I needed to say something but most importantly I had to choose my next words wisely as they would either make me or mar me.

"I'm sorry, mother. I-"

“You are sorry? What even is that?!” She was on her feet now. "Sorry? For what exactly? What is it with my loins that only the dogs come to eat from your plates like I birthed nothing but crumbs?"

I could already feel the familiar burning behind my eyes, but I'd just be a sore loser to her if I dare cry.

"Must you always be such a disappointment? A shame? Can’t you ever be better? More... more ladylike?”

I would never be enough for them, I knew no answer I gave would satisfy her but my silence sometimes could be worse.

She downed the liquid in her glass, and the maid hastily refilled peeled away from the shadow refilling her glass.

“You… you just can’t do anything right,” she sucked her teeth.

I was certain my lower lip quivered at this point. “Mother, I-” my voice had a tremble

A hand shot up, silencing me and the wine in her glass sloshed dangerously as she came closer.

"Now you want to cry and make have the county think me wicked? To have them feel I treat you worse?"

"Mother, no, I would never."

"Save it. I will give you something to cry about."

The fan in her hand struck my cheek with a sharp crack, the force whipped my head to the side, the pain that came with it was hot and stinging.

I didn’t even see it coming

She slouched her wine, I saw it now, her eyes were bloodshot red from all the drinking and frustration. She stalked forward, and instinctively, I stepped back, but mother advanced, her steps were unsteady yet full of menace.

“Devil's spawn,” she spat. “You are the devil! You ruined my family!”

She flung her glass at me, and it shattered against the wall behind me.

“Mother please, I- I’m sorry.”

She had this sinister smile on her face as she reached for the marble bust on the nearby tabletop. It was like she couldn't hear me. She was not going to use that on me right...?

“You should never have been born.”

Pain. Blinding, searing pain.

Darkness swallowed me whole and for a minute I wished I would never wake up.

______

My head hurt and it felt impossibly heavy as I woke up.

Wincing I shut my eyes tight; the ache was just too much to bear. I tried to move my body and felt something small and warm curled at my feet. Mustering strength I tried and looked at it.

Annalise.

I inhaled shakily. When did she get here and how had she fallen asleep in that manner?

How did I get into bed? I sure remember the slap of mothers' fan; the weight of the marble bust before everything went black.

She literally just tried to kill me. Like hell, she could've lost the pregnancy somehow if she hated the thought of me that much.

I tried to sit up, but I hissed painfully through the ache and heaviness in my head.

Beneath me, Annalise stirred, mumbling “Rora?” She scrunched her eyes and stretched. “Are you up?”

“Yes Anna, I’m up,” I said softly

“When I heard what Mother had done, I couldn’t help it. I had to come down...” Her voice was quiet and sad “Marianne cleaned you up and got you into bed.”

"Mmkay" I said back trying to clear my throat, I was in no mood to talk much right now.

"I worry so much about you. I can't understand why mother would hurt you like that; you were bleeding and- and-

"Hush now Anna, she was only angry. Don't let that worry you, okay?"

She nodded and I stretched open my arms inviting her in for a hug.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

This was the first time Mother had been so extreme and thank the heavens, I was alive. For now, but that was enough for me to know that she could actually do anything.

I reached out, brushing a strand of golden hair from Annalise’s face and she smiled sleepily, nestling closer. “I’ll always stay, Rora, I love you.”

"I love you too Anna."

I waited until Annalise went back to sleep, then I slipped out of bed and undressed in front of the mirror, my fingers trembled as I unwrapped the cloth from around my head. It was a surprise to me that it was not a large wound. I had almost imagined my brain out in a pool of blood around my body after that hit.

I ran my fingers down my cheek across the dark sore skin left behind from her strike then to the faint scars that littered my skin. Some were fresh, barely healed from last time when I stayed too long in the garden and missed a music lesson, and mother felt the fire poker’s handle was the best choice to 'teach me to be on time'.

But there were worse scars, ones lower, hidden where no one could see… scars from him... My breath hitched as my nails dug into the scars between my thighs. One day soon, he would come again. He promised.

A quiet sob escaped my lips as I sank to the floor, shaking silently and cried until I had nothing left in me.

By the time I returned to bed, Annalise was not in it. I figured she must have gone back to her room sometime while I was still in the bath. I pushed the curtains open a bit to let the moonlight in, allowing myself a moment to pretend that I was fine and that my mother had not tried to kill me few hours ago.

I prayed so hard for a peaceful sleep, but the universe could not offer me that either, it was morning before I knew it, sunlight shone on my face from the curtains I had left open. Groaning I turned in my sheets and was greeted by a searing ache that struck my head.

Dear heavens... what is this pain?

My room door creaked open silently, and Marianne entered with a fresh dress over her arms, trying to be quiet, but stopped in her tracks when she saw that I was already awake.

"Milady."

"Marianne..."

“It is I, Milady. How is your head?"

"It is better."

"I will run you a bath, but you must hurry, milady,” Marianne said, hastily setting