The Girl Who Would Rule - Part III
Note Regarding Music Cues: As I write, I almost always listen to music to help me get to the place where I need to be for a particular scene. I saved the links to the tracks I listened to while writing this story. The beauty of posting my work online is I can easily share those links. Below, anytime you see a [MUSIC] link, that’s what I was listening to at the time. Of course the timing will not necessarily fit however slowly or quickly you read but you’ll get the idea. Enjoy!
[MUSIC] Andrea did not see Andreas for almost a week after his episode in the garden. In the interim, subtle and not-so-subtle changes began to take place. A simple bed, table, and chair appeared in her chamber while she was out gardening one day. Instead of the single meal per day, she now received breakfast as well as a meal that came at a time and appeared more like dinner. Most startling to her though was the day she walked into her chamber and saw that the chain and shackle had been removed.
She did not question these changes though she had her suspicions about who was making all of this possible. Leslie began spending far more time with her and at times had someone with him whom he could send on errands on her behalf. His tone toward her had become ever so slightly more deferential.
While she didn’t question the improvement in her situation, Andrea did ask Leslie one afternoon while they were taking a rest in the garden, “Tell me. How long have you worked for the King?”
The question seemed to pain him but with a deep breath, he said at last, “I have been in his service for quite some time now, ma’am. It has been in different capacities but it has always been directly under him.”
“Well, he must trust you if he is willing to send you to babysit me,” she replied with a lighthearted laugh.
He did not laugh with her but rather looked at her with an intensity that startled her. “Your Grace, I think that was a fortuitous accident on his part. I cannot be sure he was making a conscious decision to improve your conditions or expand your freedom.”
Her silence and frown encouraged him to continue. “Ma’am, nothing that has happened these last few months was preconceived or planned. At least not in any verbal way that I can recall. And while the King has always been very clear and definite in his decisions, this is the first time, that I’m aware of at least, that he has not seemed to have thought through his actions.”
Andrea looked down at her feet, now clad in proper shoes, a simple but clean dress brushing against her ankles. “Leslie,” she said at last, “did he tell you to attend to me more or has this been something you took upon yourself?” She turned to look at him, waiting for his answer.
“Oh no, ma’am,” he said, looking her in the eye. “He very specifically instructed me to spend more time with you.”
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[MUSIC] One evening, Andrea was in her chamber, having had dinner, feeling comfortable and relaxed after having completed the restoration of the final section of the garden earlier that day. She sat at her table, brushing her hair, which now that it had been cleaned and her diet having improved, was taking on a lustrous sheen.
A knock came at the door. Having never heard any kind of announcement that someone was coming into her room, Andrea turned and looked expectantly at the door. Hearing no key in the lock, she called out, “Come in?”
The lock turned and the door opened. She heard multiple footsteps and the creak of wheels. Coming into view from the shadow, she saw Leslie, and an attendant pushing the King in a wheelchair. She immediately stood up, clasping her hands together before her. The attendant pushed the King’s chair to the center of the room where the light from above during the day would ordinarily fall.
Andrea swallowed hard seeing him now. It was evident he had not recovered in the week since they saw each other last. In fact, she thought, his face was far gaunter as though he had stopped eating.
A low guttural cough came from deep in his chest as he cleared his throat. “Andrea, I hope…you have found…the improvement…in your situation…to your liking.”
“Your Majesty,” she said, dipping her head in agreement.
“It should be obvious to you, as it is to me, and everyone around us for that matter, that something has taken ahold of me,” he said in a very low voice, so low that Andrea leaned forward in hopes of hearing him better. “I must…surrender…some duties,” he said in a slow measured pace, with deep suppressed coughs interspersed. “I…Leslie has…my instructions…. He will discuss them with you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Andrea said. Caught off guard by this turn of events, she wasn’t certain if she should say anything else.
As if reading her mind, Andreas said with gruff haste, “Nothing more,” and motioned for the attendant to turn him around and take him back out.
The attendant wheeled the King around and they departed, leaving Leslie and Andrea alone.
After a long pause, Andrea finally said, “Leslie….?”
“Ma’am?” he answered, taking a step toward her.
“What just happened?”
“I believe,” he began, choosing his words with care, “you know exactly what happened.”
Andrea closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“But,” he said pausing, “we can talk about what might happen next.”
“Yes, well, he said you have instructions,” she responded. “What are they?”
“Quite simple ones to be honest, ma’am,” Leslie said with a lighter tone. “I am to listen to you and to provide guidance when asked.”
Andrea frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Well that’s a bit vague, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. You just have to get started,” he replied.
Sighing, Andrea walked back to her desk and sat down. Crossing one leg over the other and resting her chin in her left hand, she pondered this. Turning to look at Leslie, she asked, “Should I be preparing for the King’s death?”
“I would consider that a distinct possibility,” Leslie replied. “With respect to how you prepare, that is harder to say. How do you prepare for something you never imagined, after all?”
Andrea was still annoyed by his vague answers but appreciated that he was still trying to tell her something. After considering his reply, she asked, “Will there be any resistance to my accession?”
“I can assure you there are difficult times ahead,” Leslie said with gravity. “The person you may find most resistant to your accession?”
Andrea waited and realizing he was actually expecting an answer from her, she indicated by raising her eyebrows and a tilt of her face, she was waiting for him to continue.
“You, Your Grace,” he said in a flat tone. Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips but, leaning back in her chair, Andrea needed no further explanation.
“I believe it is called ‘impostor syndrome,’” she answered.
“Among other things, but yes,” Leslie said, gratified that Andrea was quickly grasping her situation. “I believe you will find it easier to doubt and second guess yourself than you would like.”
“You will help me guard against that?” she asked although she really meant it as a statement.
“Unequivocally, Your Grace,” came his immediate and definitive response.
“Very well,” Andrea said, standing. “If the King will permit, please begin bringing me any documents you believe I should be familiar with and let me get started with what I realize will be an accelerated education.”
Leslie closed his eyes and after a moment, rather than merely dipping his head, bowed in the manner reserved for the sovereign, a gesture that caused Andrea’s breath to catch. He then took a step backward and departed from her chamber.
As soon as the door closed, Andrea burst into tears.
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[MUSIC] In the couple of weeks that followed, Leslie began bringing books, reports, and various other documents by the cart load. At first, Andrea devoured everything before her but as the piles began to grow around her, she realized she needed to prioritize what received her full attention. As much as she wanted to know as much as possible about what had unfolded over the years, she had to skim those materials and devote more in-depth focus on the more immediate concerns of the realm.
Leslie patiently sat with her in the garden for hours, listening to her increasingly detailed questions about the state of affairs and then endeavored to provide satisfactory answers while also injecting his own counsel into his responses. They both realized they were settling into a deep working relationship. Any doubts he may have had about her ability to rule were being swept away by the depth of her understanding on issues both small and large.
And so it was, late one evening during a full moon, Andrea was so engrossed in her reading that she completely missed the gentle rapping on the door until it was repeated, a little louder. Annoyed at being interrupted, she barely looked up as she called out, “Come!”
The door opened and the sound of creaking wheels snapped her out of the book before her. Standing, she saw Andreas in his wheelchair come into view, followed by the attendant. Leslie, customarily with them, was absent. As soon as they were in the middle of the room, the attendant stopped the chair. The moonlight from above fell on him casting shadows over his face. In his lap, he held the crown, the same light shining down on the metal and precious stones in it.
“Your Majesty,” Andrea began. “It is late. You should be resting.”
“Andrea, I will be resting soon enough,” came his weary reply, though not interrupted by any coughing. “You may go,” he said, gesturing to the attendant. Bowing, the young man turned and left, softly closing the door behind him.
“What brings you here then, at this late hour?” she asked taking a step toward him.
“It is time…I needed to give you…,” but before he could finish, his voice broke. Andrea rushed forward and knelt before Andreas’s knees. Sucking in a sharp breath, he tried to regain his composure before continuing. “I need to show you something about the crown,” he said finally.
Lifting it out of his lap slightly, he turned and rested it so that the center front piece with the largest lapis lazuli stone was facing up at him. “Andrea…I tried…so hard…I thought I was doing the right thing,” he began again, fighting back tears. “They told me, ‘The world is a harsh place. It won’t accept her.’”
Andrea closed her eyes and bowed her head.
“I decided…I would be strong enough for both of us,” he said with a mirthless laugh.
“Andreas, oh Andreas,” came her dismayed reply.
“I know, I know,” he said exhausted, the will to fight completely gone now. “I thought I needed to protect you. I didn’t realize…I’m only now realizing, I was afraid of you,” he said, letting the tears begin to fall freely. He gripped the crown tightly now, as though it were a talisman.
“I think I always knew that,” she said, lifting her head at last. “Or, at the very least, I assumed you were being told you should.”
He laughed. “Not just stronger than me, but also smarter.” Andrea allowed a light chuckle in response.
They were both silent for a bit, not looking at one another but both staring at the crown in his hands.
Finally, he said, “Well, it’s time.” He took a deep breath. “But please, Andrea, whether you forgive me or not, please promise me one thing?”
“Of course. But just know, I do forgive you,” she said gently as she began to weep with him.
“Promise me you won’t forget me?” he asked.
She reached out and lifted his chin up. Andrea said in tone that ensured her feelings could not be questioned, “Andreas, how could I forget you? You are a part of me, just as I was always a part of you.”
Though his chin quivered, he was no longer crying. “Surely you were born before me. Regardless, you were born better than me.”
Andrea chuckled and then said, “Perhaps they became confused in the excitement and just assumed the boy was born first.”
“Well,” he said, sighing, “you get to have the last laugh.” And then he added, with pride, “Your Majesty.”
He tilted the crown and reaching behind the center front piece, he unhooked a clasp holding it in place. He paused and then flipping the center piece on its hinges holding it in place, the large red ruby that was in the back now faced forward. “God save Queen Andrea,” he said as he slipped the clasp back into place. His head dropped down, and his body slumped into the chair.
Not moving, Andrea sat there for a moment. In a quiet voice, she called up to the inert figure, “Andreas?” Hearing no response, she rested her head on his knees and cried silently.
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She realized she must have fallen asleep because it took hearing Leslie call out several times, a little louder each time, “Your Majesty…” before she came to. Lifting her head a little, she saw the crown before her, still in Andreas’s hands. She sat back abruptly and was wide awake.
“Your Majesty,” Leslie said again and this time Andrea looked up at him, standing just to the left of Andreas and his wheelchair. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”
Blinking, she shook her head. “I guess I must have fallen asleep after…” she trailed off looking at the slumped figure before her. “Leslie. Call the King’s attendants,” she said standing.
Turning, he called out “Attendants! The Queen requires your presence!”
Andrea flinched at the instant and unbidden change in Leslie’s language. She reached down and took the crown out of Andreas’s hands.
Two young men entered and came to attention. “Please take the King’s body and prepare it for the funeral and burial,” Leslie ordered. They stepped forward and gently began to turn the wheelchair around and take him from the room. Andrea watched them go and although she wanted to follow, she knew her presence would not help. She turned and set the crown down on her table.
Instead, she turned her attention to the room around her. “Leslie,” she called, as she strode toward the far wall. He quickly followed. “Help me open these.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. Andrea reached up and grasping the heavy black drapery, started pulling. Beside her, Leslie began to do the same on the one next to her. Immediately, light from the early morning dawn began to pour into the room. They continued, pulling panel after panel back, working from the right side of the room all the way around to the left.
When they were done, Andrea stood looking at the semi-circular room, now flooded with light, the windows looking out over the courtyard and garden below. Opposite from where they were standing, across the circular opening in the ceiling now filled with light, sat the enormous throne that had been hidden from view all these years.
“Your Majesty,” Leslie called. Andrea, lost in thought, turned to him. “If there is nothing else, there is a great deal of work to begin.”
She nodded and gestured toward the door. As he started to walk away, she called out to him. “Leslie?” He stopped and turned back toward her. “Get that damn door off the entryway.”
He turned, looked at the door, and then as he started walking toward it called back, “With pleasure, Your Majesty.”
