Part One of Two

In one of the various gardens spread amongst the castle, King Ragnar greeted Anastasia, 

“Hello my one and only daught. I am glad we will have this opportunity to chat.” 

Once he sat down at a little table, Anastasia followed. Everyone in the room, aside from Evageline, was now sitting.

“So, father, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?” Anastasia’s eyes glanced from King Ragnar and then to Evangeline. Evangeline only let out a quiet breath, hoping things would go smoothly between the monarch and his daughter. However, their chats never seemed to follow the idea of serenity.

The honest truth was that King Ragnar and Anastasia did not have a good relationship; the expectations on Anastasia put loads of pressure on her. She was to become a scholar and eventually to inherit King Ragnar's throne. Anastasia was to become the Queen of Colosiccus. 

What King Ragnar didn’t know, opposed to what Evangeline did, was that Anastasia had no interest to rule the kingdom nor sit on the throne as Queen. She wanted to spend her life as a dress designer in the village, along with the other civilian tradesmen. 

“Can’t I have a lovely mid-afternoon tea party with my daughter?” To his response, Anastasia visibly slanted her eyes with suspicion implanted in her pupils. Evangeline could feel her waves of hesitancy rolling off Anastasia, like that of the sea washing against the shoreline. 

“Well, from my many recounts of our so-called tea parties, they have generally been a lecture or a demand of some sort.”

“Now how dare you assume that of me? That is reckless, Anastasia.”

“But it is true!” shouted Anastasia.

King Ragnar scoffed in disbelief before taking a furious sip of tea in visible attempt to calm the anger that seemingly lies just below the surface, ready to bubble over at any time. Managing to calm himself, King Ragnar said, “Anastasia, my daughter, I will not argue with you.”

“Then what is it you wish to discuss with me, father?” She spat out the last word with venom hidden underneath her teeth. Almost like a cobra attempting to strike its prey.

“Look at Evangeline, she wouldn’t dare have such disobedience.” Evangeline was slightly taken aback by the comment, causing her to stumble backwards, placing her weight on her back foot. How could he drag her into such antics between him and his daughter? 

“Father!” Anastasia seethed as she grasped the fringes of her dress with her left hand and clenches a cup of tea in her right, “She has nothing to do with this. She’s simply a fly on the wall.”

“You’re right,” King Ragnar concluded, taking another sip of tea. 

“Then let's stop kicking the rock around. What do you want to ‘discuss’ with me?” 

“My daughter, my pride and joy, your mother and I believe it is time for you to accept the crown. We believe you are ready to lead the kingdom.” Anastasia, dropping her teacup in surprise, now had tea on her less than brilliant white dress. Porcelain shattered amongst the garden’s grass floor as anger rose from Anastasia.

“Father, that is, well, that is blasphemy! I'm twenty-three years young!” 

“And princes' and princesses' younger than you get crowned, some as young as 14.”

“Because their parents bloody died!” Anastasia shouted furiously, a vein popping out of her forehead. She stood up abruptly, turning her back and storming out of the garden. Evangeline hastily followed behind her. 

The last thing Evangeline heard, as she exited the garden, were King Ragnar's final warnings to the princess, “You cannot keep running away from your responsibilities, Anastasia! You will take this crown!”

As Evangeline took long strides to keep up with a fuming Anastasia, she found herself feeling guilty at what she witnessed. King Ragnar was known to be rather strict, known for keeping the kingdom well ordered. What was not known to outsiders was how harsh he was on his only daughter and wife. He called it tough love. 

On the outside, to the commoners and the military, the royal family was picture perfect, but on the inside, cracks ran deep, slowly tearing the family apart. The senior staff did the best they could to shore the royal family up and keep the internal squabbles from the general public. 

“Did you see what he said to me, Eva? That bastard. He knows I’m not ready to take the crown, why is he forceing me to take it!”

Anastasia turned around suddenly, stopping in her tracks, her eyes brimming with tears as she took in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. However, Evangeline could see the troubles that lie beneath the surface; Anastasia was beyond hurt, she was terrorized, thoughts swarned her mind like a thousand stallions running across the plains. 

“I did, Princess Anastasia,” Evangeline frowned slightly as her hands entangle themselves together. She took in a shallow breath. 

“For the billionth time, stop calling me ‘Princess Anastasia’, it is simply Anastasia! A-N-A-S-T-A-S-I-A.” Evangeline cringed slightly as Anastasia’s voice bounced around the hallway. 

One thing about Evangeline was she did not enjoy being yelled at; behind the hard exterior, she had a secret fear of voices being raised at her. She wasn't quite sure why, but it was something she had known since she awoke at the castle gates. 

“My apologies, Anastasia.” Evangeline bowed in Anastasia’s direction. Anastasia let out a groan before flipping her hair around and continued to storm off in the opposite direction of the gardens. To be more specific, she headed in the direction to her bedroom, a safe space where she could feel free to do whatever she wished.

While walking, Evangeline noted to herself that King Ragnar was correct in one assessment; princes and princesses Anastasia's age were starting to take over their respected kingdoms within the contient of Aagara.

Coming to a sudden stop, in front of Anastasia's room, Evangeline could feel Anastasia's gaze as she looked at her with pleading eyes.

“I just need some time alone, Eva,” Anastasia whispered quietly as she rubbed a small bead of sweat off of her forehead. Evangeline can tell that she was distraught, hell a bloody blind man could tell that much. From the shaky posture, the sweaty forehead, and the torn apart mind set, Anastasia was, without a doubt, in peril. 

“Princess Anas--- Anastasia, you know I must not leave you alone for your safety.”

“Then wait outside my room for all I care! I need my time alone!” Anastasia opened her bedroom door, and closed it in a matter of seconds. The sound echoed throughout the castle, probably so loud that the entire kingdom heard it. 

Evangeline peeked around curiously, unsure of what to do. Anastasia did say to stand outside her room, and it appeared that there was little use in trying to argue with her. Evangeline hesitantly reached for the door handle, her hand hovering for a mere second. She then touched the handle and attempted to turn it. However, she found that it was locked tight. She debated using a master key that had been obtained from the king’s head butler to unlock the door in emergencies. Yet doing so would only infuriate Anastasia even more.

“Leave me alone, Eva! Please!” Anastasia’s voice blasted from inside the room. Evangeline sunk slightly into her skin, her eyes casted down towards her feet and her posture slumped ever so slightly. 

So, Evangeline did the best she could, and she sat beside the door, awaiting potential danger that might present itself to Anastasia. 

There she sat for several hours, Evangeline counted four in her head. 

The maids attempted to bring food, but Anastasia refused, unwilling to open the door. 

Eventually day turned to night, and Evangeline found herself to be tired from all the sitting around doing nothing. She was left with only her thoughts to keep her company.

Her sunken heart became elated when she saw two guards walking towards her, marking the end of her shift to protect Anastasia. Each one was carrying a spear and was, also, suited in twinkling, silver armor. 

“My lady, Evangeline,” a guard said.

Evangeline bowed before casting a look in the direction of Anastasia's bedroom. “She is still in a foul mood; it would be best not to disturb her.”

“Understood, thank you, Evangeline.” replied one of the guards as both line up on either side of the door.

Evangeline started heading to her bedroom before her eyes widen in panic, how could she forget? She took in a shallow breath, trying to calm down the panic that bubbled below the surface of her skin. She had a lesson with Fletcher in, well, gods know how long! 

And so off she sprinted towards the battle grounds in hope to gain more knowledge in her craft, as well as sparring with someone many levels above her.