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The Girl in the Glass Box Page 7
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Page 7
"I don't buy it, Snow. You are what you make yourself. And don't you forget that. What you don't possess, you work on. You learn. You fight for. That's the message of the story."
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Genevieve reached out and touched his face. "I like that you kissed me. It took courage. When did you become so brave?"
"Eh, you know, I have my moments." He grinned at her, and her heart swelled at the sight of his smile. "Would it be pushing my luck to kiss you again?"
"I'd be offended if you didn't," Genevieve smirked and this time leaned into his arms, meeting him halfway. He wrapped his arms around her and enveloped her in a gentle comfort she'd never felt before.
9
The next day, Genevieve eyed Oliver as they made their way through the library and over to the usual table where they sat. She couldn't help but notice something sour about him.
"What's going on with you today?" she asked as they pulled the chairs out from around the mahogany table lit by the incandescence of the roaring fireplace. The library was their sanctuary, but tonight it felt off somehow.
"Nothing. It's nothing." He still would not look at her, but rather scanned his eyes over the expansive library collection. Genevieve loved to see his face light up every time he caught sight of the hundreds of books. She pulled a thick volume off one of the shelves and plopped it down on the table in front of her.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and flipped her chin in the direction of the wall of books. "Take whatever you want. I keep offering for you to take them. I know how much you love to read."
"Snow, I couldn't. I wouldn't feel right. Plus, what would the others say if they saw me reading, with your books no less? They would accuse me of stealing."
"Who cares what they say? And why wouldn't you feel right? I am giving you permission to take what you want. They are mine, and I am giving you permission. So take what you like."
"You don't understand, do you? There are expectations, repercussions if we don't follow the rules. We can get into trouble. Serious, life-jeopardizing trouble. We can endanger my family, your future. I didn't understand it before, but the more we sneak around and the more close calls we have in almost getting caught, I grow more and more fearful. We were just kids before. If we had been caught together, there was a better chance they would've just let it go. But now, we're old enough to know better. They won't be lenient. Do you ever think about it, Snow? How much we have to lose if we're caught?"
"Of course I do. All the time. But would you rather we not be together? Is that what you'd prefer?"
"You know that's not what I want. But I never realized how difficult this would be. We both didn't think about how greatly our lives differ, especially as we grow older, and what those differences mean for our futures. You're next in line to be queen, for God's sake! Do you really want to compromise that by wasting your time with me?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well, you shouldn't. You have a responsibility to your people to —"
"Oh God, not again. Not you too. Marnie. You. All this talk of responsibility. I'm tired of it. I just want to live my life and be free. I don't want to have to worry about everyone else."
"Well tough. You do have to worry about everyone else. Especially now. Your kingdom is suffering. It's the worst it's ever been. While your father's been running off to tend to God-knows-what, Agrippine is running this city into the ground. Don't you get it? You need to step up and take your place as Queen or else this kingdom is lost."
"I don't want to discuss this."
"After starting this conversation last night, I haven't been able to get it off my mind. You need to hear this, whether you want to or not. You need to face the reality of your future. It's closer than you think, and if we spend too much time dancing around it or pretending it isn't coursing us at the heels, then we're fools."
"What has gotten into you? Why all this talk about responsibility and rightful heirs? Can't we just be kids?"
Oliver ruffled his hair, blew out a deep breath, and shook his head. "I wish we could. But we can't. I know what it's like to endure poverty. You've never understood such inconveniences, but the more I think about your countrymen and how you could be their savior from this tyranny, I am ashamed I might stand in the way of that."
"You're saying I don't understand? Do you mean to tell me you think you have had it harder than me? Is that what you think?"
"It's not what I think, it's what I know. You've never been poor, you don't know what it means to suffer or have to go without.”
"I have expectations placed upon me, Oliver. I can't do whatever I want. And worst of all, I am always being watched. No matter where I am or what I do, I am lonely but never alone."
"You must be joking,” he scoffed. "For as lonely as you have been Princess, I too have been lonely, but never benefited from the comforts you've had. Look at your library, and your gardens, and your serving staff. You don't know what sacrifice is. I was ripped from my home, where I was comfortable and happy, to come here without any say. Now that is sacrifice."
"Really? Has it been that difficult for you, Oliver? I know you left everything you knew, but you moved into a palace, where, though you have to work, you have very few expectations put upon you."
He snickered. "You are really clueless, Snow, about what life's really like out there. People are dying! Conditions are abysmal. And there is no end to the suffering in sight." He moved in close to her and whispered, even though they were alone. "There is corruption in every corner of politics. And it trickles down from the top. I could be killed for saying all this, but you need to know. And it breaks my heart you are so oblivious and indifferent to it all. You have a responsibility, and you don't even care.”
"What do you want me to do? I'm only seventeen. Do you suppose I go head to head with Agrippine and fight her for the throne? I'd lose without question. She is too strong, too powerful, and besides, I don't know the first thing about being queen."
"And that's just it! You don't want to know. It's too hard, too much work. It's too real." Genevieve watched him close his eyes for a moment.
His face reddened, and he wore a pinched expression. Sweat pooled above his lip and upon his brow. But when he reopened his eyes, his gaze was softer. He put his hand on her arm and ignited her insides with his fixed stare. "You are the most generous person I know. And you're almost eighteen. Almost beyond the time you can call yourself a child any longer. You are smart and kind. But you need to grow up, take responsibility for your people, and start to learn what it really means to be a princess. You have a heart of pure gold, but you're wasting it as your people are dying."
"You have no idea what I have been through. You don't know what it's like to grow up with Agrippine hovering over your shoulder, watching your every move. She has tortured me since I was young. I've never had a mother. My father is always away. You don't know anything about it. It… it's not as easy as you make it sound."
"Okay, you win. Your life has been more difficult and no one understands. Satisfied?" Oliver glanced down and shook his head, as his hair grazed his eyes. He fixed his stare at a book he had plucked off the library shelf.
"Is that it? That's the end of our argument?" Genevieve ripped the book out of his hand and slammed it shut. "Why do you always back down when I challenge you? It's not that I enjoy fighting, but I like when you fight back."
His eyes alighted with new understanding.
"Ohhhh, is that it?" he said. "You like the fight? Well then, channel that, Snow. Channel that energy and fire into fighting a battle worth your passion. Your people need you, and this time we wouldn't be fighting each other, we'd be fighting together for the greater good."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Oliver. It's time for me to go to sleep. And you should too." She placed the thick book back on its shelf and turned to face him. "You think it's easy, to make such a drastic change, to forfeit what little comfort I have, to sacrifice. It's easy from where you stand
because you're not the one who needs to choose. Don't act so high and mighty, it's not becoming of you."
She opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a young page bursting through the library door. Oliver dove under the table out of sight.
"Princess, there's been an accident. You must come quickly."
How could this happen? How could he leave me alone here? What I am supposed to do without him? Genevieve's thoughts swirled in her head like an unstoppable storm. Her father couldn't be dead. It was impossible. He was so strong, indestructible. And now?
It had been only a couple of days since she learned the news of the tragedy — an attack on the royal caravan. Her sadness was hard to articulate. Though he'd been distant, both physically and emotionally over the years since her mother's passing, he had always been the only thing keeping Agrippine and her power at bay.
Genevieve sat in the library and stared out the window at the grey sky, consumed by worry, anger, and emptiness. She jumped at the sound of the door crashing open.
Oliver rushed into the library without even checking to see if they were alone. "The people…the citizens…they're rioting!"
Genevieve pulled her eyes from the book she was reading to give him a quizzical look. "What? Are you mad?"
Out of breath from the sprint, he huffed fat gasps between every word and said, "No… not mad… very… serious.…” He collected himself and continued.
"The people are rioting because the news of your father's death has made it to town. They want you to step up and take the throne. They are fighting against Agrippine as ruler. Her army is fighting them off, slaying innocent people, one after another. She's taking prisoners and captives. She's lost her mind. And the people keep fighting because they want her gone."
Genevieve returned to her book. "It will settle soon."
"Are you even listening? People are dying. Your people. This is what we were talking about.” Oliver snatched the book from her hands and slammed it closed on the table. "Dammit, Snow, this is serious."
She looked up at him, as his chest still heaved and sweat soaked his hair. "No, this isn't what we've been talking about. This is what you've been talking about. I… I just lost my father. Do you even understand that? He was the only leverage I had, my only protection against her. Do you know what kind of danger I'm in now? She'll make my life hell for sure. And with the people crying out for me to take the crown, don't you see, it puts my life in greater jeopardy. I know you can't understand, Oliver. I know to you I seem selfish and cold-hearted, but I have no one. And I can't fight her alone."
Oliver wrapped her hands in his. "You aren't alone. You have me, and I'm not going anywhere. We can fight her together, or flee until we figure out a plan. If you don't feel safe here, we'll run." He released her hands and pulled out a chair next to her. He sat facing her, his eyes intense. "I get it now. I see why you're scared. And it's not selfish, it's survival. So we'll go. We'll run away. At least until we can regroup and figure out how we can fight."
Genevieve took a moment to survey his face. He was serious. He would leave his family. His safety. His comfort. For her.
"No. We can't go. You have your life here and —"
"My life is with you." He took her face in his hands and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
She leaned into his touch, sighed, and took his hands into her lap. "I love that you would offer to leave all this to keep me safe, but I'm not ready. I'm not saying we won't go, but we can't be so impulsive. Let's plan it, make sure we have what we need, do it the right way so we can be sure we survive. I mean, it's not like either of us is accustomed to a life in the wild. Where would we go? How would we live? We can't just jump into something like this. Plus, it's chaos out there right now. Agrippine's army is everywhere. We wouldn't even make it past the gates without being detected. Let's just think this through, okay?"
"I…. I just want to keep you safe."
"I know, and that means everything in the world to me. You're right. I'm not alone." She kissed him lightly on the lips and gave his hands a squeeze. "I'm very lucky to have you, Oliver."
10
Oliver climbed the stairs and checked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone. His heart pounded almost louder than his footsteps. He reached the wing of the queen's bedchamber, forbidden to the majority of the castle staff, including him. But he had to know. He had to see what she was up to, if she had any plans in store for Genevieve. He couldn't watch the abuse any longer, not if he could help it. He weaved his way through the empty corridor, still not quite sure what he was expecting to do or hear.
But I must protect her.
The sound of Agrippine's voice made him jump.
"Out!" she commanded, and three chambermaids scurried from her room. Oliver hid in the shadows, thankful they exited and turned the opposite direction from where he stood. Before the door to her room closed behind them, Oliver managed to catch it and hold it open just a crack. He peered through the narrow slit and prayed she wouldn't see him. Her back was turned, her sleek figure a shadowy silhouette, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He closed the crack of the door a bit tighter and positioned his ear to it, the door concealing his body from her sight.
"Mother," she said.
Mother? He pressed his ear tighter to the small opening.
"My darling girl," said a voice Oliver did not recognize. He didn't see two people in the room, but he had only had a brief glance.
"I did it, Mother. I did what you advised, and it was orchestrated beautifully. Everyone thinks it was a gypsy ambush. The king and all of his entourage were killed in the attack. The whole kingdom is in mourning. They rioted like animals, but my army was victorious and now, the throne is mine."
The unknown voice continued, "You have heeded my advice and are coming into the zenith of your power. But don't be naïve to think you are secure in your position. We have worked too hard to see you lose it now."
"Lose it? I've just gained it. What further threatens me? Is there something you're not telling me?."
"I've seen it, my darling, another prophecy. It speaks to an issue we must address sooner rather than later if you hope to keep your power."
"Well, what did it say? Mother, speak the prophecy. I need to hear it." The clicking of the queen's shoes upon the hard floor marked her frantic pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Fearful that, in her movement, she might discover the door ajar, Oliver narrowed the crack until there was barely any space left. His heart raced. He knew he should leave — he'd already heard too much. The death of the king? Murder at the queen's hands? Who could he tell? Who would even believe him?
The unknown voice continued, but Oliver wasn't sure he wanted to hear anymore. "Before I tell you the prophecy, what have I always said, Agrippine? Who holds the power?"
"The beauty holds the power."
"Yes, which is why this prophecy threatens such danger. Listen and heed its caution." Oliver listened as the unknown voice changed to a deeper more hollow tone. It sounded almost how he imagined a ghost would sound.
Though your beauty is known far and wide
the question of power's unjust
for the answer you seek's not the one I can give
but in this prophecy you must place your trust.
* * *
Your desire is triumphed by verity
though the answer will likely appall,
the truth of the matter you're after
is Genevieve is the fairest of all.
* * *
Yet, beauty and its terms are quite varied
depending on with whom you speak
but it is doubtless that I am mistaken
for the Truth is the word that you seek.
* * *
And as hard as it is to divulge this,
it's my duty to which I declare
in terms of the fairest of beauty
the victor is the King's only heir.
Oliver had heard enough. A wave of dr
ead overtook him and he grew queasy and lightheaded. All of the terrible things Agrippine might do to Genevieve, the crimes she confessed to, and the idea of her unending reign of terror raced through his mind.
He backed away from the door and fumbled down the hallway, which seemed to narrow and warble in his blurry vision. He collided with an ornamental suit of armor, sending it crashing to the ground. The metallic clanging was deafening and echoed through the empty corridor. Oliver scrambled to his feet and took off running. Before he rounded the corner, he peered over his shoulder one last time, to see Agrippine watching him from the doorway of her bedchamber.
Oliver bypassed the turn for his room and flew straight for the east wing. He climbed the stairs higher and higher, his adrenaline allowing him to move without effort. He clamored into Genevieve's room without a moment's hesitation.
"Wake up! Snow, get up quick! We've gotta get out of here!"
She woke with a start and gasped to see Oliver next to her, in her bed.
"Oliver, you can't be here. What if Marnie sees you? Or my stepmother? Please, this isn't proper. You need to go."
"To hell with proper! We have to leave now. It's like you said. You're in grave danger." He began pulling the blankets off of her as she fought to keep herself covered. He panted wildly and continued to pull at the bedding.
"Oliver, slow down. I don't understand. What are you saying?"
He drew in a deep breath and tried to compose himself. If he couldn't explain what was at stake, and quickly, perhaps he'd never convince her to leave. He took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. Their blue color was piercing, almost distracting, but he forced his mouth to form around the words.
"Your stepmother is dangerous. I…I just overheard her speaking with someone, about you and your future as a threat to her power as queen. Her advisor says you're a problem that needs to be…eliminated. You… we have to leave before she decides to take action."