Chapter 1
It was a bright and chearful spring morning in may when my life began crumble. My father, King William, had known for some time that trubble was brewing within his kingdom. Many people thought that he was unfit to rule anymore. Why they thought this I did not know at the time. To me, he was perfect. Always kind and good, his pet name for me was Hope. He used to say " My dear, you will be the hope of us all!" And then laugh at his own joke. I never found out what was so very funny. As he was never ever crule, to me at least, I asumed that he was kind and loving to everyone. That was how it was in fairy tales. What I did not see was him when he was dealing with matters in the throne room. He may have been trying to do what was right but he was easily swayed by what his councilers said. And by the time he relised it,it was to late. My mother was kind and loving as well. Always there to give me a hug when I was sad or angery. I had a terrable temper. Mother said it was my red hair, but my father said I got it from my mother. He would call us 'to peas in a pod'. For we both had wiery frames, red hair, eyes as green as grass and a light dusting of freckles across the nose. And of caurse, a temper.
Back to my story, it was about 11:00 am when there was a great comotion out side the graden walls where I would always read on the mornings of nice days. My mother, Queen Rose, came running in, the tears streaming down her cheeks from those kind green eyes. I always hated to see her cry. Running to me, she grasped me in her arms whispering over and over, " your our last hope, your our last hope. They won't hurt you because," she stopped, sobs catching in her throat as she tried to continue, " because your not ours." With that she continued to sob, emotion wretching her slender frame. As I held her in an embrace, my mind whirled. " What did she mean, ' Your not ours', was I not her child? Of course I was! And they were my parents, weren't they?"
After about five minutes, guards burst through the same door that my mother had come through. They aproched slowly, as if trying to catch a wild beast, their spears pionted in front of them. Some of them openly mocking my mother. For the first time in my life, I felt her cower away from somthing she feared. She had always told me to face my fears, then I would not be afraid anymore. Anger welled up inside of me like it never had. 'How dare they say such awful things!' Is what screamed inside my head. Suddenly somthing snapped, and I yelled at the approching men.
" How dare you say such things to the Queen!" I litteraly roard at them. They just laughed and one with hair as red as mine sneered " Why should you care for a woman who is not even you rightful mother?"
" She so!" I screamed back. My temper was roused and now I could not be stopped. I lunged at the speaker, cought him by surprisre and bit him savegly on the hand. He screamed and struggled to get free. My mother was screaming again. Then it went dark.
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When I awoke, the sky was dark. It was a cloudy night. No stars lit the sky. A heavy mist surounded everything and the smell of smoke was stong. Shivering and damp, I got slowly off the ground, my head thumping like crazy. As I continued to half walk half stumble around in small circles, my mind cleared enough for me to remember all that had taken place. At once I became frantic, calling out my mothers name for about an hour. Finally, when I could no longer shout and th eenergy was drained from my body, I lay down on a patch of grass and fell into a restless sleep.
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The next time I woke up, it was because I was being carried by ruff hands. Through half closed eyes I tried to see where they were taking me. I did not recognize anything until we went through what used to be Queen Rose's rooms. I could scarcly tell they were her rooms but for the the picture that was still visable of the Queen with her laughing eyes. My eyes were far from laughing. At the sight of it they filled with tears. The anger of yesterday returned, and, with a move that surprised me, managed to get free of their iron grip. Lifting up my skirts, I fled. As I ran, I looked for my mother, not daring to shout her name for fear of some body else hearing me and posibly catching me. I came to a sharp turn and ran smack into the chest of of my fathers cheif advisor.
