After the kidnapping

It's Thursday, and we know what this means... It's time to continue the story! For those of you who are reading, if you feel like commenting on what's been posted, you can now do it on this site. Thanks Todd for letting me know it wasn't allowing comments before. I appreciate comments (just as long as you don't completely and totally degrade everything I've writen) Now to review from last week, Prince Henry has been kidnapped (that's all you really need to know. Oh, and need to remember the Connection, but not until later in the story. Just know Henry's gone). Now, let's fast forward (The years I skip are boring anyway).
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Sixteen years later

“I HATE YOU!”

The door slammed, the frame shaking from the force of the thirteen year old. Abigail sighed deeply as she sank back into her chair. These arguments with her daughter always ended with that line. A part of her believed that the princess did not really mean it; another part knew she deserved that hate.

She shook her head. It was no use thinking such thoughts. Sara would eventually calm down and come apologize. Until then, the queen had a nation to run.

“Shay,” she called out, knowing her aid to be listening in. “You can come in now.”

The door opened again and Brent Shay shuffled into the room, holding a stack of paper close to his chest. The pile in his arms was as large as the pile already on her desk. She suppressed the desire to sigh again.

“Where did all this come from?” she asked as he carefully laid the stack next to the other one.

“The generals, Your Majesty,” Shay said with a bow. “Forgive me for saying this, but it is your own fault. You asked for the reports.”

Abigail scowled but said nothing. The aid was right, she did ask for regular reports from all the generals. “I didn’t recall all of this during the last war.”

Shay’s sorrowful eyes became more downcast. “I ask forgiveness again. Last time, you had your husband.”

It was true. Abigail leaned back in her chair, thinking about a year before. For fifteen years, King Jonathan had been able to enforce their treaty with General Terk. They thought they were safe. That safety was a lie. Last year, while doing a regular inspection of Fort Bree, an out posting on the Aeternan-Venter boarder, her husband was caught in the sudden invasion Terk led. She choked back her tears, still able to hear the messenger with the terrible news. Her husband was dead.

He died leaving Aeterna without a king and her the only ruler. Sara was too young to inherit the throne, so the responsibility of saving Aeterna fell onto her shoulders. “And I will not fail!” She shoved her sorrows down and sat back up. Jonathan did everything he could for Aeterna, and she would do no less than her own best.

“Alright, Shay,” she said, enfolding herself in her position. She was the queen of Aeterna and nothing would deter her from her duty. “Thank you. You are dismissed.” Her aid bowed respectfully then shuffled back to his own office.

Taking a longing look through the large bay windows across her office, the queen sighed and resigned herself to the pile of work. She started by shifting through her letters, placing them in piles of importance. Finding a letter from Duke Pinsamen, she snorted. The duke had been petitioning the same thing since the war began. He wanted exempt from the taxes used for the war.

“The war involves all of us,” she thought angrily, tossing the duke’s unopened letter into the garbage. “Just because he’s not at the front doesn’t mean he can’t help.” She was about to begin sorting again when she saw the unmarked letter uncovered by Pinsamen’s discarded one.

“Now, what does that old man want?” she muttered, tearing it open. Only Doug Suit, her Aeternan Spy Master, could have gotten an unmarked letter past Shay. Snorting softly at the arrogant old man, she began to read the short message.

Urgent. Plot to kidnap Princess Sara. More details to follow.

The blood seemed to freeze within her. Taking gasping breaths, she tried to think, but the memory of her son overwhelmed her mind.

“No,” she breathed, holding her head in her hands, trying to get a grip of herself. “Sara won’t be like Henry. I won’t allow it!”

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Queen Abigail tired not to walk quickly down the halls of the palace, but rather at a calm and cool pace. It was harder than it should have been.

The afternoon had been spent in secret reclusion as she planned her only child’s safety. Aeterna had been unable to rescue her son. She vowed to not let the same thing happen to her daughter.

The plan was simple enough, though she wished it hadn’t involved so much risk. The only safe place she knew Sara could hide was under Suit’s command. A nest of thieves, assassins, and spies. The Tree was where Suit had gathered together the largest group of dishonorable people in Aeterna. If it wasn’t enough that she thought Sara was safest among these cutthroats, she planned to smuggle her there.

“If I can get her to agree,” the queen thought bitterly as she arrived at her daughter’s rooms. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

“Sara?” she asked, bracing herself for the inevitable fight to come. “May I come in?”

“Do I have a choice?” the princess answered back with a snap. “Don’t I get any privacy anymore?”

“Sara,” the queen said, taking a firm tone. “I need to speak with you.”

“Fine. Come in.”

Abigail rubbed her temple as she opened the door and stepped inside. She always had a headache when dealing with her daughter. Closing the door, the queen saw the scrawny princess leaning far out of her window, looking up to the clear blue sky.

“Sara!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing the world from a different angle, Mother,” the princess said, frowning as she slid back into the room. “I get bored with these same four walls.”

Abigail eyed her thirteen year old headstrong daughter. Sara was anything but a pretty princess. Oh, yes, her face promised that she would become a beauty but how she presented herself was far from it. Her dress was smeared with the dirt of the window, her light brown hair was snarled, and her gray eyes were defiant. She had spirit, a desire to have adventure and make a difference in the world. If only she would apply that in her duty as the only Santer heir!

“So,” the queen said, an idea forming in her mind to excite her daughter. “You want to see the world from a different angle? Alright.”

Sara froze as she was dusting off her skirts. “Alright? What do you mean ‘alright’?”

“You want adventure,” she replied, folding her arms. “How’s this. Someone wants to kidnap you. How do you propose that you not get kidnapped?”

“Kidnap?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “No one would dare try to kidnap me. I don’t think any other princess in the world has as many guards as I do.”

“We thought the same thing about your brother,” the queen thought sadly, but she said nothing. Sara had never been told about the crown prince.

“It’s amazing what a person can do when they’re determined to,” she said instead, walking over to the fireplace and warming her hands. “Now, assume they have a way to get past the guards. If you knew what they were going to do, what would you do?”

“Well,” Sara said slowly, sitting down in her favorite chair. For being from one of the richest families in the world, the princess just had to attach herself to a large fluffed chair her father had bought her on one of their whim trips into the city. “I guess… I shouldn’t be where I’m supposed to be. Make them look in the wrong places for me.”

“Exactly.” She smiled proudly. Sara had a mind sharper than most nobles. “And that’s what is going to happen.”

“Wait!” Abigail turned around to see her daughter standing again, her face shocked. “You mean there is someone who’s planning on kidnapping me? And you really think they could succeed?”

“There’s a possibility of it,” she answered softly. “I have decided, that for your own safety, you are going to disappear. No one will think about finding you where I’m sending you.”

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Princess Sara Santer waited in the palace stables, pacing nervously. She paused long enough to straiten her riding skirts. A real adventure! She had arrived to the stables a half hour earlier to saddle a horse for herself and escort; she couldn’t be any more excited! Finally to get out of Nacre and away from all the expectations of her. She knew her responsibilities of being the heir to the throne. That’s what she really rebelled from.

“I’m as real as person as any of them,” she thought bitterly. “Why can’t anyone see that?” As long as she could remember, the adults who ruled her life tried to protect her from the world. They didn’t let her do the same things as other kids; they didn’t let her ride horses through the forests around Nacre or swim in the bay. Instead, they had her studying politics, cultures, histories, and other princess-like things.

In a sense, she felt robbed of her childhood. Her father had told her of all the things he had gotten away with when he was the crown prince. “What had changed? I’m always told that Santers were never raised like normal royalty. Why am I the exception?”

She bit back a sob at the thought of her father. The princess missed him so much. Her father always knew what to say to her; he was one of the few people she respected. He was one of those unique kings, someone who didn’t wear jewels or crowns to remind people of his power. His power was in his stance and bearing; no one question her dad when he gave an order. Sara quickened her pacing.

“If you want to look calm,” Cornel Petra said as he and her mother entered the stable, “then I suggest that you stop wearing a hole in the floor.”

Sara almost smiled. Although she hated adults who protected her, the cornel at least tried to make it easier on her when he protected her. She wished her mother would just hurry up and promote the man to the head of security already.

Then her eyes found her mother. “Huh?” she asked. Her mother was not dressed in her normal simple noblewoman’s outfit of fine cloth and trimming, but rather dusty riding skirts and faded blouse. Her hair was also worn down, not tied up in a bun. “You going somewhere?”

“Yes,” her mother said, picking one of the two horses saddled and ready to go. “I’m going with you.” Sara opened her mouth to object. “And there’s no arguing on this point. You’re my only daughter. I’m going to make sure you get there safe!”

Sara turned to Cornel Petra, hoping he would help her. He knew how much the two of them fought. Wasn’t he there to escort her? That should have been the only reason he had come.

“Sorry, kiddo,” he said, nearly smiling himself. “Her Majesty is right. She knows what she’s doing.”

“But!” she stared to protest.

He chuckled, steering her towards her horse and helping her up into the saddle. The princess wished she could take her own horse, but Fenny was a fine breed horse and would stand out. “It’s been decided. The queen is better than any guards for seeing you safely there. And,” he said as she opened her mouth, “I am in complete agreement. I’m just here to lock the door behind you.”

Sara muttered darkly under her breath, eyeing her mother as she sat atop her horse. This was going to be a long trip. Suddenly, she realized something. “Where are we going?”

Abigail smirked. “The only place where cutthroats can do an honest living. Come on, my girl, we have a long way to go.”

Sara’s excitement suddenly dropped. When her mother said she was going into hiding, she hadn’t mentioned cutthroats.

“Good bye, my Ladies,” Petra called after them as they left. “And good luck!”
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(Again, you may be wondering where Martin is. Well, tune in next week when Martin finally makes his entrance!)