The Bodyguard

Tali

“What?!” Tali gripped her helmet and threw her arms out wide. “I joined the knights to help defend our kingdom, not babysit a useless royal!”

Her commander crossed his arms. His height and breadth alone were imposing, but standing there in full armor with that scowl on his weathered face, he was downright terrifying. He could cow anyone. But she wasn’t just anyone. 

“You took an oath to do whatever was asked of you to defend this kingdom. You have your assignment,” he said, his voice gravelly with age and irritation.

She dropped her helmet and mimicked his stance and scowl. “But babysitting the prince? Of all things? My parents died defending this kingdom, Brenner. You’ve trained me to follow in their footsteps and I’m good. You’ve told me so yourself. Now you’re going to assign me to a job where my skills will go to waste?”

“Watch your words, young one. This useless royal is going to be king in less than a fortnight. The health and wellness of our kingdom will rely on him and his health and wellness will rely on you.” Tali opened her mouth, but Brenner shook his head. “No, you listen. Your parents took the same vow you did, and they honored that vow to the end. I raised you to respect our ways and our kingdom, and I trained you to defend it. Now, I am entrusting the future of our kingdom to you. Are you going to dishonor me, your parents’ memories, and your vow?”

Tali’s shoulders slumped, and she dropped her arms to her sides. 

“Well?”

“No, sir.” She hesitated. “But the prince?”

“Yes, Talisa. The prince. Now pick up your helmet and gather your things. Lars will introduce you to him tonight.” Brenner gestured to the knight, who stood still as a statue in the corner, watching their exchange with wide eyes.

“Yes, sir.” Tali set her jaw and swiped her helmet up. She straightened and slammed her right hand over her heart with a metallic clank of her armor. 

Brenner drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Tali.” He stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. 

Tali looked up at him, and the affection in his eyes melted the irritation in her heart. She sighed. “Yes, Bren?” 

“You have your parents’ passion and dedication. They would be proud of you. I’m proud of you. You may have developed a will too like my own, but if you use it with wisdom, it will serve you well. Keep your wits about you. This job will not be as simple as you think.”

Tali nodded, but she couldn’t see how guard duty to a pampered prince could be anything but boring and a waste of her time and talents. She turned to follow Lars from the room. There go all my grand visions of fighting on the front lines as my parents did.

Davon

Davon slammed the door to his parents’ rooms and stalked down the hall. His new bodyguard pushed off the wall and followed two steps behind him. Since Lars had introduced her two days ago, she looked like she’d bitten a sour grape, which added to his frustration. 

I can’t believe father is refusing to go fight with his soldiers and that he won’t even allow me to go. A king’s place is with his men, especially during war. Not hiding here in the castle!  

Before he could open the door to his rooms, his bodyguard, he couldn’t remember her name, shoved her way past him and searched the rooms. “It’s safe,” she announced.

“Of course it’s safe,” he grumbled. “We are in my rooms.” She took up a position in the hall near his door without comment. Why did father insist on new bodyguards? Malik was just fine, though getting older. He shook his head. “Send for Theron.”

“I’m your bodyguard, not your errand girl.”

When he scowled at her, she rolled her eyes and strode to the fireplace to yank the bell-cord. A servant appeared a few minutes later. “His highness wants Theron sent for,” she told the servant, her tone dry and bitter, as she took up her place by the door again. 

He couldn’t remember ever having someone be so clearly unimpressed with who he was, or at least the title he held, but commander Brenner swore that she was one of his most trusted knights. He didn’t know whether to be infuriated by her lack of respect or amused. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, ran a hand through his hair, and forced his mind back to the issue at hand. I have to do something. I can’t stay here while our men are on the battlefield. 

Tali

Tali watched the prince’s friend approach the room. It was a little strange how much he resembled the prince. 

“Theron!” The prince greeted his friend. “Shut the door.”

She glanced in as the door swung shut and saw the relief wash over the prince’s face. She leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other. I’m going to murder Brenner. This has been as dull and awful as I expected it to be. She tapped her fingers against the hilt of her sword. This was her first night guard, but so far, the prince had done nothing that she didn’t expect. He’d wandered his castle, studied, and talked with other nobles. The only abnormality had been earlier this evening when he’d argued with the king and queen. She’d been outside the room so she couldn’t make out what they were arguing about, but she could clearly hear their angry tones. 

She thought back to the other day when Brenner had given her her assignment. After she had left the room with Lars, he asked if she had a death wish. She chuckled. While most people might think that, Brenner was like a father and they had their fair share of arguments, even though he was her commander. He won the majority of the arguments, anyway. 

Hours later, the door finally opened again. Theron walked out, his hood over his head and a pack that he hadn’t brought with him. Tali straightened as he walked down the hall and squinted at him. He walked as if he owned the place and stood taller than he should. Oh, no you don’t. 

Davon

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Davon winced. He’d hoped when he heard her armor that she was going to pass him by. No such luck. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll give up. She can’t know it’s me.

Her armor clanked as she sped up and stepped in front of him. He backpedaled to keep from walking into her. “Whoa!”

“Highness, where are you going?”

“How did you know it was me?” He stepped around her and continued down the hall.

“You are two inches taller than Theron and walk like a prince.” She fell into step beside him. 

“And just how does a prince walk differently?” 

She straightened, raised her head until she had to look down her nose, puffed out her chest, and took long purposeful strides that would have seemed like she were gliding if not for the armor that made it awkward. She stopped and shrugged. “Or something like that. I’m not royalty so I never learned to do it the right way.” 

He rolled his eyes and let out a derisive snort. Okay, so Brenner was right. She is very alert. He turned down the servants’ hall. She followed. “Do you make a habit of mocking us?” he asked.

“Only when I’m bored.”

She said it as if it happened often. He found himself wanting to chuckle, but he swallowed it. He was on a mission and had to stay focused. “It’s obvious you despise your posting as my bodyguard. Go back up to the room and pretend you didn’t realize I left.”

“Ha! And lose my head? I think not. Besides, I’m curious now.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmhm.”

“Ugh.” He turned into the kitchen and started adding some food to his bag. 

“So, where are we going?” She snatched a roll from his hand and started munching on it. 

He cast a glare at her and the corner of her lip tipped up. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before he headed out the kitchen door. The infernal clanking of her armor followed him. He rounded on her and she stopped in her tracks. “If you are going to insist on following me, take that armor off. It’s way too loud and will draw attention to us.”

She raised an eyebrow and he could see the curiosity burning in her eyes. “Fine, but wait for me. I’ll find you if you don't, so it's pointless to try to sneak away.”

He didn’t doubt that she would find him. And quickly too. “Fine,” He growled, then shooed her away with a flick of his wrist. “Be quick.” 

She mimicked his wrist flip, then disappeared up the stairs. 

Davon folded his arms and leaned against the wall outside. What is her problem with me? Does Brenner know how she treats me? I should tell him. He will make sure she learns to show proper respect. He pursed his lips. He wouldn’t say anything. Part of him enjoyed the lack of respect. It gave him some idea of what a normal person might experience. He’d heard knights and servants relate to each other, but even his closest friends still treated him with some semblance of difference. It left him feeling like something of an outsider.

“I’m ready.”

Davon startled and twisted around. His bodyguard stood a few feet away, dressed in leather armor. His eyes widened as he stared at her. This was the first time he had seen her in anything other than her clunky armor. Her sword was strapped to her side and her shield hung on her back. Her braided hair draped over her shoulder and a pack dangled from her hand. Her eyes sparkled, and she looked all too pleased with herself for startling him.  

“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Good. That took you long enough.” He shook his head and forced himself to look away from her. “We need to move quickly.” 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No.” He grinned at her huff of exasperation as he set a quick pace out of the Castle. “You can help, though. Do you know any other way out of the castle grounds, aside from the gates?” 

“No.” 

He glanced sideways to see she was watching him. When he met her gaze, she shrugged, then pointed to the right. 

“There’s an entry through the guardroom.”

“Take me there.”

She stopped. “I’m supposed to be upstairs guarding you while you are sleeping in your room. If we’re caught-”

“If we are caught, I will reveal myself and make up some excuse. Now, lead the way.” 

She grumbled, but led the way. At the doorway, she pressed her back to the wall and thrust an arm out to block Davon from moving forward. Only then did he hear the sound of boots on stone. The person walked past without noticing them. After a minute of silence, she poked her head around the corner. When she drew it back, she grabbed his cloak and yanked him forward as she darted through the room. 

Davon stumbled and struggled to stay on his feet as she dragged him after her. “What?!” He clung to her wrist for balance and, when she stopped at another doorway, wrestled his cloak from her surprisingly strong grasp. “There was no need for that!”

She smirked. “The door is through the next room. They’ll lock it soon, so we need to move.”

Davon scowled as she darted forward again, but he followed her. I am going to regret this.

Tali

Tali slung her pack over her shoulder as she followed Prince Davon. She hadn’t expected the joy she would get from trying his patience. The past week and a half had been filled with amusement and some frustration of her own as he continued to keep their destination a secret from her. 

She could very clearly picture Brenner’s stern glare and could hear the words he would say if he knew how she’d been treating the prince, but she couldn’t help it. Even when she tried to hold her tongue and be respectful, something about him begged to be sassed. And there was still the fact that she despised his family for their cowardice and the way they chose to rule. She eyed him. He really isn’t as bad as I thought he’d be, though. She grudgingly admitted to herself. And he’s not too bad to look at either. She shook her head at herself and forced her mind elsewhere.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” she asked. She couldn’t wait to see where they were headed, but tried not to show it. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

He paused and ran a hand through his hair as he looked back the way they had come, then the way they were going. His eyebrows drew together. “Of course I know where we are going.” He looked around again. “I… am only uncertain if we are headed in the correct direction.”

Tali snorted. “If you told me, I could tell you.” 

He shook his head.

“What? Do you not trust me?” she asked.

“Should I? All you have done since you have taken your position as one of my guards has been to mock me.” 

Tali opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had a point. 

“Commander Brenner spoke wonders of your abilities. I question his judgment.”

His tone was almost lighthearted, but Tali whirled on him. Her voice shook as she tried to tame her anger. “Speak against me all you like, but do not question Brenner. That man has done more for this kingdom than you will ever know and he deserves your undying loyalty.” 

The prince blinked at her. “He deserves my undying loyalty?” 

“Yes.” Tali stepped toward him and pointed a finger in his face. She knew she was taking this too personally, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You and your parents might realize this if you actually did what you should as the rulers of this kingdom instead of hiding in your castle.”

“I beg your pardon?” The prince rested his hand on his sword.

Tali’s face twitched, and she swallowed. I’ve done it this time. Brenner will be so disappointed with me… if I survive to face him. Still, I’ve gone this far. She stepped back and folded her arms. “You heard me. You three hide in your castle while your people are out here dying for you and for this kingdom.”

“You realize I could execute you now for saying such things.” The prince’s voice was dangerously low and hard. Fire burned in his eyes. 

Tali dropped her pack and knelt, bending her head forward. “Please, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Forgive me, Brenner. I tried. At least I will get to see my parents again. She blew out a long breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for him to strike. When nothing happened, she raised her head.

The prince stared at her, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. “Get out of my sight,” he ordered.

Tali didn’t move. “What?”

“I do not care where you go, but you will not go home and you will leave my presence at once. No royal guard or knight can be loyal and harbor such feelings.” 

She frowned up at him. He turned his back on her and left her there. 

Tali stayed on her knees and watched the prince stalk away. Of all the things she could have imagined happening on this journey, this was not one of them. I’m free from my vow now. The thought did not bring the sense of freedom or excitement she might have expected, but left her feeling empty and without purpose. What do I do? I’ve failed to live up to my parents’ examples. I did not come close to living the life I wanted to live, and I’ve let Brenner down. 

She pushed herself to her feet and took a step after the prince, then paused and shook her head. She crossed to a log and sank onto it, rested her elbows on her knees, and hung her head. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there with Brenner’s words, “this useless royal is going to be king in less than a fortnight. The health and wellness of our kingdom will rely on him and his health and wellness will rely on you”, running through her mind. Accusing her. Reminding her that she hadn’t only failed her parents, herself, and Brenner, but the kingdom that she loved. Tears filled her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.  

Metal rang on metal, echoing through the forest. Tali’s head jerked up, and she listened. The sound came again. From the direction the prince had gone. Without a second thought, she took off toward the noise.

Davon

Davon parried the attack and backed up in an attempt to keep all four attackers in sight. This would happen the day I left my bodyguard. He clenched his jaw. The woman’s audacity infuriated him. The fact that she was right, that he himself had had similar thoughts to the words she had uttered, only made it worse. And instead of confiding in her, he had banished her. No wonder she despises us. 

He shook his head and focused on the man who seemed to be the leader of the group. He had walked right into an ambush. These men wore the clothing of the Gandor kingdom. The kingdom they were currently at war with. They must be spies. 

As they advanced on him, a blur came flying out of the woods and one of the men dropped with a cry of pain. Blood covered his tunic. They all pivoted to face this new threat. Davon’s mouth dropped open. His bodyguard, eyes rimmed with red and jaw set, stood next to him. He lowered his sword.

“Having a party without me?” she asked, her voice scratchy, and her focus glued to the attackers.

“Ahh!” One of the men recovered and ran forward. 

He raised his sword, but she was in front of him, using her shield to deflect the blow and countering the attack. She spun and went for the other men, who focused all their attention on her. Obviously, the bigger threat. He watched, fascinated by her movements as she fought with the men in a flurry of kicks, strikes, grunts, blocks, and parries. She lost her shield, but another man went down. The leader engaged her, and she turned to him, leaving her back open. The third man went for the kill. Davon jumped forward to protect her. It did not take long to defeat him.

He turned to check on his guard. She straightened from the body of the leader, a bloody scroll in hand, and held it out.

“I can do many things. Reading isn’t one of them.”

Davon eyed her for a moment before he speechlessly took the scroll and scanned it. He drew in a sharp breath. “We must return home,” he said as he reread the contents. “I wanted to go to the front lines, but they are coming here.”

“Ha. The front lines?” she muttered. “I misjudged you.”

“The battle at Bryn is a diversion,” he continued. “Their army is headed to the castle as we speak.”

She groaned. 

Davon looked up from the scroll to see she bent over and squeezed her right arm to her side. “What is it?” He stepped forward and reached out to steady her. “What is wrong?”

She waved his hand away, shoved her blade into the ground, and sank to one knee. Her face was pale when she looked up at him with her lips pressed firmly together. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve been an insolent fool, but I beg you to forgive me and reconsider my banishment.” Her voice sounded thin and strained. “I love our kingdom, and you are my prince. If you’ll allow me, I pledge my life to your service and to the service of this kingdom.”

Davon studied her upturned face and had no doubt she meant every word. He sighed. “What is your name? I should know it if we will spend much time together.” 

Hope brightened her eyes. “Talisa. Or Tali. But I will answer to whatever you choose to call me. Including numskull.”

Davon chuckled and rubbed his forehead. “Rise, Talisa. I am the one who needs to ask for forgiveness. I was angry because you spoke the truth.” He held out a hand. The corner of her mouth curled up and most of the tension drained from her expression as she reached up to take his hand. Relief filled him, and he smiled.

Tali

Tali grunted as the prince helped her to her feet. 

“What is wrong?” he asked.

She braced herself and moved her arm to look at her wounded side. The prince sucked in air through his teeth. 

“We need to take care of that.”

“I’ll be fine.” She winced. “I’ve received worse from Bren during training.”

“Bren?”

“Commander Brenner.”

The prince tilted his head. “You two are close?”

“He raised me.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Ohhh. That explains everything.” 

Tali frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

He made a face as if he were trying to hold back a grin. “Nothing.”

Tali rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We need to get back to warn him and your parents.”

The prince pulled an extra tunic from his pack and thrust it at her. “Take care of that first. Then we will go home and stop this war.”

Tali took the tunic and grinned at him. I suppose Bren was right. He isn’t such a useless royal after all.

A Royal Decision

Tori

“Help!” Weak pounding accompanied the hoarse cry. “Please… I need… help.”

Tori grabbed her sword, pressed her back to the wall near the window, and peeked through the side of the curtain. There, in the fading evening light, a man hunched over on his knees on the cabin doorstep. Tori scanned the area around the front yard. The only thing she could see was a horse in the shadows of the trees. She ducked below the sill and moved to the other side of the window to check the far side of the yard. Still nothing. 

She bit her lip. This could be a trap.

“Is anyone… there?” Another thump, then the sound of his body sliding against the door.

She sighed, hefted the sword, then slid back the bolt and yanked the door open. The man’s body rolled partially into the room. Tori froze. It wasn’t the man’s blood covered tunic, his handsome and strangely familiar face, or his glazed eyes that held her riveted in place. She stared at the clasp on his cloak. A golden crown with an arrow and scroll crossed over it. The royal symbol. The prince!

Tori slammed the door shut, shoving the prince’s body back out of the cabin in the process, evoking a pained grunt from him. She leaned back against the door, her breaths coming short and fast. Her eyes darted about the cabin. What should I do? How did they find me? Uncle isn’t here… Uncle will kill him! He’s injured. He wasn’t looking for me. He needs help. But does he? Or is that just a ruse? Ohhh…. 

She ran a hand over her face. Alright, think. No one else was out there. That was real blood. He is not acting. He is dying. The prince is dying. On my doorstep. She let out a disbelieving huff before she closed her eyes and rubbed them. How ironic. 

“God, what do I do?”

Twelve years earlier

     Tori ran through the hallway toward the screams. Previous kings and her other relatives stared at her from their paintings that hung along both walls, but she ignored them. Something bad was happening, and she needed to know what.

      She froze in the doorway of the grand hall and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that tore from her throat. Her parents lay on the floor in a pool of blood. 

          One of the men, a captain who she recognized as one her father trusted, stood before them surrounded by soldiers who held other soldiers captive. His armor gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in from the windows. His tall frame seemed to tower over her even from across the room. Tears filled his dark eyes as they pierced into hers when he looked up. He tilted his head at her. “Bring her.” 

She couldn't move as a soldier with a bloody sword stepped toward her. 

         The man placed his hands on the shoulders of his son. The boy she had often talked with while their fathers discussed the security of the kingdom. She had never learned his name. He had his eyes closed, and his head turned away from her parents' bodies. 

When his father’s hands landed on his shoulders, the boy’s eyes opened and connected with hers. They reflected the same sense of horror that filled her. "Run!" he mouthed.

But she couldn't. She stared as the soldier with the bloody sword came closer. Suddenly, he jerked back and fell to the ground. Someone grabbed her, hoisted her to his shoulder, and ran. She caught a glimpse of the crossbow in his other hand.

"After them!" The shout followed them down the hall. 

Before the soldiers left the room, whoever held her skidded around a corner, opened a secret door in the wall, and yanked it shut behind them. 

Present day

Tori dropped her hand to her side. Her uncle had saved her that day, and every day since he had spoken of the revenge they would take on those who killed her parents and how she would be reinstated as the rightful queen. He had hidden them deep in the forest of the kingdom, but close enough that he could keep in touch with people he trusted and know what was going on in the castle.

She loved him for the thought, but the knowledge that he had actually been working towards this, despite her attempts to talk him out of it, terrified her. She had no desire to go back to the castle if it meant more bloodshed. The man who had taken over and become king actually cared for the people well. Aside from his first act of rebellion against her parents, he actually seemed like a decent man. A much more powerful and wealthy man, but still decent. 

It had taken her years, and many conversations with a local priest, who was the only other person aside from her uncle who knew her true identity as the displaced princess and who had told her stories of her parents’ reign, but she had come to terms with what had happened and decided to trust whatever plan God might have. She had even begun to wonder if her parents might not have been as great as she remembered them to be or her uncle claimed they had been. The priest never said it outright, and she had never asked, but she knew he did not want to speak ill of them in front of her by the way he would trail off or change topics if they spoke about them too much. 

Her uncle didn’t understand her talk of forgiveness and God’s plans or her contentment to live a quiet life with him, the priest, and their cabin. He was sure God had abandoned them. She knew He hadn’t. In all her prayers, she never felt led to try to regain the throne. She just wanted to live her life.

She turned and eyed the door. She knew what she had to do. Still, though she’d forgiven them, she had never expected to come face to face with any member of the royal family who had killed her parents. She rubbed her chest. The pang she felt convinced her that she still had some healing to do, even after all these years. 

She straightened her shoulders and blew out a deep breath before she opened the door again. Prince Westley had lost consciousness. She studied him for a moment and could still recognize the boy from years ago in his brows and face shape. Even unconscious, he was a very handsome man. She shook her head, hooked her arms under his, clenched her left wrist with her right hand around his chest, then she hefted him through the doorway. 

“Uncle is going to kill me when he gets home,” she grumbled as she grunted and heaved. She finally managed to get him into the back room onto her cot. She stood back, rested her hands on her hips, and stared at the prince. His injuries were very likely her uncle’s doing. She knew he’d been planning something but had refused to talk to her about it because of their difference in opinion. She winced and bit her lip. “What now?”  

The priest. He will know what to do. She grabbed a pot, ran to the creek, filled it, and returned. After she placed the pot over the fire, she left the prince and ran for the small village nearby. 

******

The next evening, Tori sat in a chair next to her cot and watched the prince’s bandaged chest rise and fall with his shallow breaths. The priest had done all he could for him. He had left that morning to lead services in the village, but had promised to return after. 

She reached out, hesitated for a moment, then lightly placed her hand on his blanket covered hand. “Lord, I know some people say I should let him die. That I should not have bothered. But I know that is not how you tell your people to act. I pray for the prince, God. Please. Heal him. Bring him through this. Let him…” She closed her eyes and willed the stab of envy in her gut to leave. “Let him return healthy to his parents. In Jesus’ name.”

After a few silent moments, the prince groaned. Tori gaped at him. Yes, she believed God could heal, but she had not expected such a quick answer. He opened his eyes and stared up at her, his brows furrowed. His gaze traveled the room before coming back to land on her again.

“You’re awake?” Tori asked. “How do you feel?”

“I…” The prince winced as he cleared his throat. “I think so? Everything… hurts.” 

The corner of Tori’s lip tipped up before she could stop it. “That sounds normal for being shot with a crossbow and almost dying.” So he is not fully healed, but at least he woke up!

“What?” He tried to lift his head, but let it drop back with a grunt after a weak attempt.

“You knocked on my door, then passed out.” 

“My horse?”

She had completely forgotten about the horse. “I’ll find him.” Tori leaned forward and gently lifted his head to adjust the pillow under him. “How did you end up here?”

“My horse… brought me… after the… attack.”

Tori frowned and glanced at the window. The horse brought him? God? The prince’s eyes drifted closed again. She wasn’t sure if he was still alert enough to understand, but she said. “The priest saw to your-”

The front door banged open. “Victoria?!” her uncle’s worried voice boomed through the cabin.

Tori jerked her hands away from the prince and stood to face the doorway as her uncle’s boots stomped across the room. Her heart hammered in her chest. What is he going to say? 

“Tori?”

“Yes, Uncle? I’m here.”

“Oh, thank God. When I saw all the blood, I-” He cut off as he entered the doorway. His expression darkened as he fixed his scowl on her. “Who is that?”

He strode forward. Tori swallowed and held up her hands. “Uncle…”

He stopped in front of her, so close that she felt his breath on her cheek as he looked over her shoulder. His chest heaved and his nostrils flared. “You rescued him?”

“Uncle, please,” she begged. She longed for him to understand. To be freed from the hurt, pain, and vengeance that ruled his life. “You know I want nothing to do with getting revenge or taking back the kingdom.”

“His family killed your parents. My sister.”

Tori looked at the ground. “I know. And I know that you have kept in touch with some of the other soldiers who escaped that night and have been plotting to retake the kingdom… but, Uncle, I want nothing to do with it.”

“Step aside, Tori.” 

She shook her head.

Her uncle drew his sword, his knuckles white around the grip. “I said step aside.”

“No, Uncle. I will not.” Tori met his furious gaze with as much love as she could. “If you want to kill him, you will have to kill me, too.” 

He raised his sword and his hand shook as he tried to stare her down, but Tori didn’t budge. For a moment, she thought he would strike them both down as hatred, anger, and regret flashed across his face. Finally, he snarled and threw the sword to the ground.

Tori’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a relieved sigh.

“Fine. If that is the way you want it. I am done.” He turned and stalked from the room.

“Wait, no. Uncle.” She took a step forward, but the front door slammed shut. Her face scrunched up as she stared at the door and ran a hand through her hair. Do I go after him? She glanced back at the prince. He watched her, wide-eyed. 

“You’re her?” His voice sounded gravelly with pain and disbelief.

Tori dropped her hand with a loud exhale.

“The princess.”

The door opened again, and the priest entered. He scanned the room, his face tight with concern, before letting his eyes rest on Tori. “Your uncle?”

She shook her head. “He walked out.”

The lines of strain on the priest’s face disappeared. “Praise the Lord. What will you do now? I’ve done all I can for him.”

“I know.” Tori rubbed her eyes. A faint throbbing started in her temples. “He needs a doctor. He needs to be home.”

The priest said nothing. Tori rolled her neck and paced the floor. 

"Oh, I need to find his horse."

The priest nodded. "His horse has been taken care of."

A faint smile lifted the corners of Tori's lips. "Thank you." She stared out the window. God, if I go to get help, they’ll recognize me… and kill me. I don’t even know if I’ll get to tell them where he is before they do… An image of the hidden passages flashed through her mind. She could easily get into and around the castle without being seen until she wanted to. Unless they’d found them and blocked some of them off. 

“What is the Lord saying?”

She blew a bemused breath through her nose. The priest’s uncanny ability to know things still baffled her. She looked back at him. “The passages in the castle. I have to go back.”

“Hm.” The priest nodded, his expression serious. 

“They might… kill you,” the prince’s voice came weaker and somewhat breathy.

Tori pressed her lips together and gave the prince a brief nod.

“I will pray for you until I hear word from you… or of you,” the priest said. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “God go with you.”

Tori returned the priest’s gesture and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Thank you.” She pointed at the prince with her chin. “Watch over him?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“You…” The prince drew a pained breath. “You are… still going?”

Tori buckled her sword belt around her waist. “We did not rescue you to watch you die.”

“But… my family-”

“Has been forgiven.” Tori cut him off. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. God help me. I have forgiven them. But it still hurts. Tears filled her eyes as the image of her parents on the ground and the prince’s horrified eyes as he told her to run replayed in her mind. One of the things that bothered her the most was that she had never discovered why or how the takeover had happened. She was too afraid to look into it, of what she might find, but that had been one of the hardest things to let go of. 

“How?”

Tori wiped the tears from her eyes and frowned at the prince. He stared up at her, bewildered. 

“I have not forgiven them… for how it… happened,” he told her. Shame filled his features. “I never wanted… I am so… sorry.”

“Oh. Your Highness.” She had never once considered what the experience must have been like for him.

“I have… no right… to be called that.”

She knelt next to him and took his hand in hers. “Please, do not carry that burden. It is too heavy to bear. Forgive them and be free.”

He squeezed her hand. “I do not know… if I can. They told me… you were dead.” He paused to take a few labored breaths. “I have… hated them… since.” He coughed and blood seeped through his bandage. 

“Remember when we were children and listened to our fathers talk of treaties with kingdoms we had warred with in the past?”

He nodded.

“We must let the past lie in the past and live for the present and for the future. If I can, I know you can. God will give you the strength if you ask Him. Though it may still be a process.” She gave him a small smile. “I have to go now, but the priest will watch over you.”

She stood, but he refused to release her hand. “Don’t.”

“You could die if I stay.”

“You could die… if you go. I cannot… lose you… again.”

Her heart melted at his words. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “And I cannot let you die.” She carefully extricated her hand from his. “I will survive, if it is God’s will.”

He nodded again as a tear trailed down his face. “Then… may He… protect you.”

Tori turned from him and hurried from the cabin before she could change her mind.

******

Tori’s shoulders rose and fell as she took in a deep breath of the earthy air and let it out. She had spent the night out in the open and gotten started again before the sun had risen. Now, she was almost there. 

She stood in the shadows of the treeline on the border of the field her father had cleared so they could see any attackers before they got close enough to damage the castle wall. Only, he had never expected the attack to come from within. 

She gazed at the castle that was once her home. She had not seen it since that night. The sight stirred memories she had long since forgotten or buried. It made the fact that her parents would never run through the halls with her again or hold meetings in the throne room a solid reality. She crossed her arms to ward off a sudden chill brought on by hopeless desire. Almost an expectation that they would be waiting for her… but she knew death was likely the only thing that waited. 

God, please guide me. Get me through. Make a way for me to at least tell them where the prince is before… before I come see you. She tore her gaze from the castle and scanned the area. Now, where was that entrance? As she looked around, the knowledge that she was doing the right thing solidified within her and a peaceful confidence replaced the fear. 

It took her a while, but Tori finally located the door near the foot of a tree that was camouflaged as moss-covered stones and roots. She grunted as she heaved it open and winced at the terrible squeak that echoed back through the tunnel. She bit her lip, climbed in, and pulled the door shut before anyone who may have heard the noise could find her. 

After she lit a lantern, it took about forty minutes to make her way through the tunnels and climb up through the castle. It looked as if no one had been in the tunnels for years. She scrunched her nose in disgust as she wiped another spider web off her face. “Father must not have told the commander where the tunnels were,” she muttered. “I guess that’s a blessing for me, though.”

She finally made it to the door that led into her parents’ old bedroom, now the commander’s and his wife’s. Tori extinguished the lantern, set it down, and cracked the door. She braced herself, then looked inside. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that they had changed the decor of the room. She expected to be blasted with memories after the sight of the castle, but this room was not the same as when her parents lived in it. 

She fingered the hilt of her sword as she sank to the ground to wait for the king and queen. What if I do take Uncle’s advice? They would not see me until I was already there. I could kill the king first, then the queen… “Victoria!” she reprimanded herself as conviction stabbed her. “You know better than that,” she whispered. “God, forgive me.”

She unbuckled the belt and held the sword in front of her before she tossed it away. I do not need that temptation, or for them to have a reason to think I am here to attack them. She stared into the dark, where the scabbard had clattered and chuckled wryly. I am crazy. 

An hour or so later, the bedroom door opened. Every muscle in Tori’s body tensed.

“...see what is taking him so long. He was supposed to return days ago,” a woman’s strained voice was saying.

“Dear, he is fine. I am sure of it. He is capable and has guards with him,” a man’s voice replied. 

The king’s voice. Tori still remembered it clearly from that fateful night. She shivered. For a moment, she considered giving up. Prince Westley might die, but he might not. Maybe she did not have to risk her life or face the man who had killed her family. But then the prince’s shallow breaths, pale face, bloodstained bandages, and weak voice ran through her mind. Lord, give me strength to face this, please!

“But what if he is not?” the queen prodded.

The bedroom door shut again. Tori peeked through the crack in the secret door. The king heaved a long-suffering sigh as he walked toward the bed with his wife close behind him.

“Clarissa, please.”

Tori gulped. Now or never. She pushed the door open and stepped out. She opened her mouth, but her voice refused to work. Tori shook out her hands and cleared her throat.

The queen turned. Her face went deathly pale, and she screamed. The king pivoted. His eyes went wide when he saw her. 

“It’s the queen, back to haunt us.” The queen reached out and clung to the king, who stepped in front of her.

“No, it’s the princess.” The king frowned. “Guards!” 

The door burst open.

“No, wait. Please.” Tori started, but then the guards were there, grabbing her arms and forcing her to her knees.

A guard drew his sword and pressed it to her throat. Tori jerked back as far as she was able, but the blade followed so closely she felt a drop of blood drip down her neck.

“The princess?” the queen asked. “Here?”

“I came to-” Tori tried.

“He sent the girl? He doesn’t give up. Finish it now,” the king ordered. “Clarissa, look away.”

The queen gasped and hid her face in the king’s shoulder.

The guard raised the sword to strike. As he stretched his arm up Tori cried out, “The prince!” She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to be beheaded.

“Hold!” the king shouted.

There was complete silence in the room. Tori pried her eyes open. The queen had her mouth covered and sank onto the bed. The king glared at her. 

“What,” he asked. “About the prince?”

“He…” Tori’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “He is injured. He needs a-” Tori broke off with a sharp inhale as the king stepped forward and gripped her face. Her stomach clenched as she stared up into his hard gaze.

“Where is he?” the king enunciated each word. “What did you and your uncle do to him?”

She tried to shake her head. “I did nothing,” she told him, her words coming out garbled, because of his hold on her cheeks. “In a village.”

He tightened his grip. “Where?”

Tori winced. “It is-”

“Solomon, let her go.” The queen approached and pulled on her husband’s arm. “She is trying to speak. How can you understand her like that?” 

The king released her and straightened. Tori worked her jaw and eyed the queen, who stared back with fear and pity burning in her eyes. “You were saying? Where is our son?”

Tori nodded. “He is near the small village of Blackburn’s Briar. Once you reach the treeline outside the castle, it is about a five-hour walk southwest from here. He needs a carriage and a doctor. The priest did what he could. The cabin he is in is about a twenty-minute walk east of the village. The Hawthorne plot. Anyone in the village will know it.”

The queen’s knuckles on her husband’s arm whitened. “What happened to him?”

“He was shot by a crossbow.”

“By who?” the king’s gaze narrowed.

Tori pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze. “I… don’t know for certain. I only have a suspicion.”

“Your uncle.”

Tori shrugged.

“But you were not involved?”

She shook her head and raised her eyes again. “I was not.”

“If you are lying to us…” The king left off the rest of the sentence, the threat in his tone enough to warn Tori of what might happen.

“I am not lying. I swear.” Tori nodded toward the open secret doorway. “My sword is still in there in its scabbard. If I wanted to harm you, I would have done it before making myself known.”

The king stepped toward her and raised his hand. Tori closed her eyes and braced for the impact, but it did not come.

When she opened her eyes again, the king was rubbing his chin and staring at her.

“Solomon.” 

The king looked over at his wife. 

“The doctor?”

He turned his penetrating gaze back to Tori. Though she wanted to close her eyes again or look away, she forced herself to keep her gaze steady on his. Without breaking eye contact, he waved at the guards. “Tie her to the bedpost, then gather twenty swordsmen and the doctor and take a carriage to the location she said. Bring Prince Westley home.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Tori did not resist as the soldiers dragged her across the floor, pulled her to her feet, and tied her arms behind her around the bedpost. As the soldiers headed toward the door, fear gripped her. “Wait!” She leaned forward, intensity radiating from her. “The priest is watching over the prince. Please, do not harm him!”

The soldier paused and looked at the king, who scrutinized her. For a moment, Tori thought he was going to refuse. “Please,” she begged.

He glanced at his wife, who gestured at her. The king frowned, tilted his head, then nodded. “If all is as she claims, harm no one.”

She sagged back against the bedpost. “Thank you,” she whispered.

******

The king summoned another soldier, who stood nearby should she try to escape. Tori ran through every possible scenario in her head as they waited for the prince’s return. Most of them still ended up with her dead, or at least sent to the dungeons for the remainder of her life. 

The king and queen paced the room, stopping to study her or whisper together every now and then. Each time they looked at her, it was with varying degrees suspicion and disbelief. 

She occasionally shifted her weight. Her hands were numb, her arms tingled, and her legs ached, but she did not dare to sit on the edge of the bed. She let her head drop back against the bedpost with a thunk and glanced toward the window. She was thirsty and hungry and had to relieve herself, but that would all have to wait. 

It should not be long now. At least nine hours must have passed. Not an hour later, a knock came at the door.

“Enter!” the king called. He and the queen stepped forward.

Tori pushed her shoulders back. She would face whatever came as regally as she could.

A soldier entered, sweaty and breathing hard. He dropped to one knee. 

“The prince?” the queen asked.

The soldier glanced sideways at Tori, then lowered his gaze again. “We found him, as she claimed,” he answered.

“Oh!” the queen uttered.

“Is he in his room, then?” The king took a step forward but froze at the soldier’s next word.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“No? Where is he?”

The messenger glanced at Tori again. She frowned. If the prince is not back, did something happen? Did Uncle attack the carriage?! She bit her cheek.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties. I only quote Prince Westley. He said, I refuse to return home or receive the doctor’s care unless a letter of amnesty is written for Princess Victoria, sealed with my father’s signet, and sent back here by her own hand. A proclamation must also be sent out that any act against her will be seen as an act against the royal family.”

Tori’s jaw dropped open. “He what?!” she asked, wide-eyed. 

The king and queen turned on her.

“Is he mad?” she continued. “Of all the imbecilic, thoughtless…” Tori shook her head. “I-” she broke off her rant as she noticed the king’s and queen’s baffled and accusing expressions. “I… did not ask him… I never thought-”

“While I agree with your sentiment about my son’s sanity, you will refrain from speaking about him that way,” the king said, his tone somewhere between amused and deadly.

Tori ducked her head. “Forgive me,” she murmured.

The soldier cleared his throat, and everyone turned back to him. “He also claims that she has proven she is not an enemy by saving his life, betraying her uncle, and risking her own life to inform us of his location.”

The queen looked up at her husband. “What will you do, Solomon?” 

He eyed the soldier, Tori, his wife, then Tori again. His gaze was intense and calculating, not as filled with anger as it had been. He strode to the fireplace and yanked the bellcord. A few moments later, a servant arrived. “Fetch me parchment, pen, and wax.” 

The room remained silent while they waited. Tori refused to allow herself to hope, though she could think of no other reason for the items he requested than his agreement to his son’s demands. She could not quench the irritated spark of affection that stirred in her chest for the prince, despite her precarious predicament. 

The servant returned, and the king and queen bent over the parchment. When the king laid the pen down, the queen looked up at her husband, approval written all over her face. 

Tori licked her lips as the king approached her. 

He held out the parchment. “Does this cover my son’s demands?”

She scanned the words. 

Princess Victoria Ann Louise Montgomery, has been discovered alive after rendering service to the prince by saving his life after he was attacked. I, King Solomon Frances Hargrave, hereby grant the princess amnesty. She shall live freely in the kingdom. Any acts taken against her will be viewed as taken against the royal family. The king’s signature was scrawled across the bottom.

Tori looked up at the king. “You are going to honor his demands? Why not just force him home?”

The king squinted at her, a shrewd look in his eyes. “I considered it,” he responded. “But, despite how heartless you may think I am, I do not enjoy ordering people’s deaths. I love my son and I trust his judgment of others’ characters. Besides, though I still have not figured out why, you did save his life and you did risk your own to bring him home to us. I cannot discount that.” He gestured to the parchment. “Does this cover his requirement?”

Tori nodded. “It does.”

The king turned from her, dumped wax on the bottom of the parchment, and pressed his signet ring into it. It was done. He addressed the soldier near her. “Cut her free.”

When the ropes fell from her wrists, tears of relief filled Tori’s eyes. She let out a shaky exhale as a large portion of her tension drained from her. She was free. Thank you, God! She rubbed her wrists, but remained standing where she was.

The king held the declaration out to the servant. “Have this copied six times, then bring them back for my seal. Find four runners and have one sent in each direction with a copy to be read all over the kingdom. Bring this first back after the first copy is written.” He turned to the soldier who had delivered the news. “You will escort…” He frowned and cast another glance at Tori. “Lady Victoria… back to my son to bring him home.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

While they waited for the return of the parchment, the queen had another servant bring a cup of wine and some fruit for Tori, and someone escorted her to relieve herself. When the servant finally returned with the original document, the king rolled it up and held it out to Tori. She took it, but the king did not release it. She raised her head.

“I have my own condition for this.”

Tori said nothing, but tried to control the panic that wanted to set in. 

“You will come live here with us. I want to keep an eye on you...”

“Solomon!” the queen exclaimed. “Even I think that is harsh.”

“And,” he continued, ignoring the queen’s outburst. “If you truly betrayed your uncle, I want to protect you, should he try to retaliate.”

Tori closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She could agree and walk out of here a free woman, in a manner of speaking. Or she could refuse and face whatever that brought. She knew her uncle would never harm her. At least, after he refused to kill her and the prince, she was pretty certain. But still. Lord, I do not know if I can live in the castle. This might be too much for me. To have the constant reminders… to live with the man who… Peace flowed through her like a breath of fresh air, along with the reminder that she had chosen to forgive this man. It did not mean she would ever be close to him, but she could manage. It can work. With God, all things are possible.

“Well? What will it be?”

Tori opened her eyes and gave the king a brief smile. “I agree to your conditions.”

The king nodded.

“And thank you,” Tori added. “For your kindness in allowing me to live.”

He released the document with a look that almost seemed like admiration. “I’m sure your uncle has told you stories of what transpired years ago.” He frowned. “I wish it hadn’t ended as it did. I respected your father… Until he almost brought the kingdom to its knees with his insatiable grasp for more power. Perhaps some day, you will allow me to share what happened. I am sorry for what I had to do.”

Tori stared up at him. Her suspicions were confirmed. Her father had not been the man she’d thought he had been. The room tilted and blurred for a second until she blinked it into focus again. She put her hand to her forehead as her body alternated between hot and cold. “I… um. I don’t…”

The king put a steadying hand on her elbow. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s fine… I just… I did not expect… I’m not ready…”

“It’s fine. That will be a matter for another time.”

Tori looked up. The king gazed at her. Kindness shone in his eyes. She shook her head. Never could she have imagined this as the ending to her journey. “Thank you.” 

The king nodded. “Now, when you are ready, go bring my son home.”

Tori pushed the overwhelming, confusing emotions swirling around inside her away to be dealt with later, sucked in a deep breath, and inclined her head. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She hurried after the soldier, who beckoned her from the room.

******

Tori grinned as she stood down the road from the cabin. The priest had made himself the host and was walking around offering food to the soldiers who camped in the yard. He looked up as she approached.

Relief filled his features. He shoved the platter at the soldier next to him and ran to her, wrapping her in a protective hug. He held her at arms’ length and looked her over before he gave her a warm smile. “I was so concerned for you.”

“I am fine.” She patted his arm. “Though I was not so sure I would be at first.” She glanced past him at the cabin. “The prince? We got word he refused the doctor?”

The priest rolled his eyes. “He is slightly dramatic, but I managed to convince him to allow the doctor to help him.” He tilted his head. “I did have to guilt him into it. I told him if you were killed, your sacrifice would have been for naught.”

She chuckled. “Come inside.”

The prince was sitting propped against the wall with pillows and blankets to support him.

“Princess!” he exclaimed when she walked in. The excitement in his voice reminded her of when he called out to her when they were playing as children.

Tori shook her head. “It is Lady Victoria now.” She held out the decree. “I was told you requested this?”

The prince unrolled the document with one arm and read the parchment. He looked up and smiled. “He agreed.” 

She nodded. “He agreed. Though, he added the condition that I move to the castle.”

“Praise the Lord. Wait… you have to… move to the castle?”

The priest chuckled. “The Lord must not be ready for you to come home yet. But, I will miss you. Will you be alright?”

“I suppose not. I… I think I will. You must come visit us. Or, if I am able, I will come visit you.” Tori took the document back and met the prince’s intense gaze. “Thank you, Highness. I owe you my life.”

“Call me… ugh.” He groaned as he shifted. “Westley. Just Westley.” He huffed a pained laugh. “I suppose we are even now.”

Tori smiled. “Yes, I suppose so. Let’s get you into the carriage. We need to get you home.”

The Flip of a Coin

Submitted into Reedsy Contest #180 in response to: Write a story that hinges on the outcome of a coin flip.

I stand at a crossroads. Wind whips my hair around my face as I prop my hands on my hip. I tap my thumb on the pommel of my sword and consider my options. One path leads into the forest that grows darker by the second. The other leads to a cave. I need to find shelter before night falls. To stay out in the open means certain death once full darkness settles. Both of my options hold dangers. All sorts of wild plants and animals. Thieves. Dragons. Dragons are my biggest threat. 

I open my money pouch and pull out a coin, my default for making hard decisions. I have been warned not to leave my fate to a coin, but I do trust in Providence as well. Heads, I will face the dangers in the forest. Tails, I will enter the cave, come what may. I draw a deep breath and flick the coin into the air.

******

People called me crazy when I set off on this adventure with nothing to my name but a loaf of bread and my grandfather’s dull sword. A journey to the castle across the Fanlair mountains was the same as swimming in the Garloh River during the flood season. Something only a desperate or stupid person would do. But times are hard and the first there would be granted knighthood. Anyone else who made it would receive a sack of gold and a job in the castle, or provisions for the journey home, should they choose to risk it. And I? I was a bit too sure of myself.

Forty of us started off from Lockly Village, the assigned starting place for this corner of the land. We thought it would keep us safer to travel together, but it made us a target. That first evening, a dignity of dragons descended on us. There were so many, we didn’t stand a chance. It became every man for himself amidst the deafening roars, blinding flames, and the clash of armor that only a few wore. It was a huge blow to my pride and grounded me in the reality of the hazards of this trip. If not for the crevice in a boulder that I was able to wedge myself into, I would not have survived. I had not seen any of the other competitors since then, including my closest friend, even though I searched for him.

That had only been the first of many obstacles. Lack of food being one of them. Thankfully, poisonous plants were one thing I did not have to worry about. I knew how to forage from my childhood in the wilderness. Giant carnivorous plants were another matter, though.

As I passed through villages, I collected provisions for helping the people with tasks such as hunting, clearing land of the man-eating plants, building a barn, and so on. Each assignment set me back in time, but the rewards were worth it. I upgraded to a new sword, earned some coin, and wore leather armor instead of the cotton clothing I had left home in. 

******

Today had been fairly uneventful, aside from one battle with a small pack of wolves during which I was very grateful for my new sword. Now, I stand at these divergent paths and watch the coin as it flips end over end through the air. It lands in my palm and I close my fingers around it, then slap it onto the back of my other hand. I draw in another deep breath and release it slowly before I move my hand. Tails. I bite my lip. The cave it is. 

A bad feeling tumbles around in my gut as I approach the dark entrance. I glance toward the path to the forest just as the wind kicks up, bending the trees and almost knocking me off my feet. If a storm is coming, I want shelter. And not the kind of shelter that could fall on me and kill me. 

“Well, here I go.” I draw my sword and enter the cave. I hear and see nothing. All seems well. I turn to look outside and a deep, earth rumbling grumble surrounds me. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pivot toward the inner cave. Two eyes reflect the light from the setting sun a tree’s height above me. The rumble comes again. I freeze in place as I stare up at the two pinpricks of light. Fear courses through me as the stench of sulfur fills my nostrils. “Uh oh.” Flames blast from the dragon’s mouth and engulf me. 

******

YOU HAVE DIED flashes in large red letters across a black screen. 

“Dang it!” I rip the Virtual Reality headset off and clunk it onto the desk in front of me before I exit the immersive pod. I had waited a year for this game to be released. The week-long daily competition to see who could survive the longest was an added bonus. The winner would receive a copy of the game, though not the immersive version. Those pods were too expensive to give away. 

I look up to see a group of my friends waiting for me, laughing as my death is replayed on a screen above my pod. My face heats as I think of how much I had boasted about winning this competition. “I should have gone into the forest,” I say as I join them and glance over at my best friend’s screen to see the words:

Congratulations! You have survived the longest in The Trek Through Fanlair Mountains. Claim your prize at the front desk.

He grins as he exits the pod. “What happened? I thought you were going to win.”

“She got barbecued,” one of our friends says.

I roll my eyes but chuckle. “Okay, fine. You’re the better player.”

“Thank you,” my friend inclines his head graciously.

“But only until I beat your record,” I add.

He frowns. “It’ll never happen.”

Our friends laugh and head over to another game.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you won.”

“You flipped a coin for something, didn’t you?” he asks.

I avoid eye contact. “Maybe.”

He snickers as he turns in his ticket and receives his prize. “I tell you this all the time. A coin flip is a poor replacement for wisdom and instinct.”

I cross my arms. “It’s a game.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

I frown. “But God can guide us with a coin flip, can’t he?”

He tilts his head. “Why did you die, then?”

I stop and my cheeks grow warm. “Probably because I boasted so much.”

He bursts into laughter. I huff and snag the game from him to scan the information on the back as we exit the arcade. 

“So, what now?” he asks. “Pizza or subs?”

I grin and pull a quarter from my pocket. “Heads pizza, tails subs?”

He drops his head into his palm with a groan as I flip the coin into the air.

An Unexpected Resolution

Submitted into Reedsy Contest #179 in response to: Write a story about someone scrambling on New Year's Eve to fulfil their resolutions for the entire year before the clock strikes twelve.

DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG! DONG!

As the last toll faded, I shifted in my oversized lounge chair, rested my head back, and raised my eyes from my book to look outside. The snow-covered street sat dark and silent compared to the havoc inside the town hall across the street. Since the town’s founding, New Year's Eve was a massive event where everyone gathered together to welcome the new year. Even now, I could see the shadows of the volunteers hurrying back and forth past the windows as they prepared for the celebration. 

I laid the book on the windowsill and pulled my blanket to my chin as I snuggled back into the chair with a sigh and listened to the fire crackle in the fireplace. This is the life. 

My eyes wandered to the large illuminated clock on the town hall. “Crap! Six?” I threw my blanket off and clambered to my feet as I cast a glare toward my cat, who curled in front of the fire. “Pepper, why did you let me sit here and read all day?!” He blinked his sleepy eyes at me with a soft mew. 

I rolled my eyes at him and tried to ignore the anxiety that filled me. I used to love this event until eight years ago when my best friend and I had a falling out. I avoided it as often as I could now, but mom made me promise I would be there this year. The problem was, he would be there, too. 

I bit my lip. “Six. Um.” I ran a hand through my hair and scanned the living room. My least favorite part of the event had always been when we shared if we completed our resolutions from the year before. I was the only one in town who consistently failed. I had every intention of completing them, but I always ended up reading or at my desk, writing. I’d sworn to myself last year that I would finally do it. That THIS would be the year.

“Where did I put that list? Only six hours. Shoot.” I hurried to my desk and yanked open the drawers. My eyes darted back and forth as I shuffled through the contents. I slammed each drawer shut after my inspection, then searched on top of the desk. My hand bumped something and knocked it to the floor. 

“Oh. That’s where my phone went.” I grabbed the phone, unlocked it, and found my mom’s number. I turned in a circle as I waited for her to answer. Where did I put that?

“Amy? Is everything okay?”

“Mom. Yeah, everything is fine. Did I give you my paper from last year?”

Silence.

“Mom?”

“Your paper from last year? That’s not very descriptive. What paper?”

“You know, the one I wrote things down on that I wanted to accomplish this year?”

My mother’s laugh tinkled through the phone.

I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “Mom, it’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “I don’t know why you bother.”

“Mom.” I drew the word out, but grinned. I really wanted to shock everyone by completing my list this year. My accidental procrastination and forgetfulness was a constant amusement for everyone.

“I told you to hang it up somewhere, so you’d see it every day to remind you.”

“You did…” I ran to the kitchen, stumbling over the upturned carpet on the way, and eyed the papers on the fridge. “It’s not on the fridge.”

“Is it under the fridge?”

“Under? Why would it be… Hm. Let me check.”

“Good luck. Love you, hon. I’ll see you tonight. Try not to be late. You promised.”

“Ha. Thanks. I’ll try. Love you, Mom.”

“And don’t forget. You promised to talk to Freddie.”

“Mom, you know we didn’t part on good terms.”

“Amy, it’s been how many years now? You’ve both changed. And you promised.”

“I know, but-”

“See you soon, hon.” My mom disconnected the call.

“Ugh!” I tossed my phone onto the kitchen table as I got on my knees to check under the fridge. No paper. 

I let out a sigh as I pictured the gangly but adventurous teen Freddie had been the last time I saw him. His family had moved away because of his dad’s military job, but when his father retired, his parents had moved back. Freddie had had his own life by then. He served a four-year enlistment in the military and had even traveled to serve in orphanages with a missionary group. 

Everyone who knew him and still communicated with him praised his character to no end; but I didn’t need them to tell me. I followed his social media and knew he stood by his values and took after his parents with his integrity. I’d never admit it to anyone; I barely acknowledged it myself, but I envied his courage and drive to impact the world. 

The last thing he’d said to me was, “You’re too involved in your fiction worlds. You gotta get out and actually live some!”

“Get out and live some,” I grumbled. “Humph. I’m quite content with my fictional worlds, thank you.” I did hope to make an impact, and I prayed that my writing would do that for me because it was something I felt called to do, and I loved it.

My first book, When the Clock Strikes Twelve, was selling better than I expected, and the publisher had offered me a contract for the sequel. But there was still a part of me that I tried to ignore that wanted more from life. The only thing was, I was comfortable with what I had and didn’t want to rock the boat.

I shook off thoughts of Freddie and my avoidance and crawled to the side of the fridge to check the space between it and the wall. A handful of bent papers sat leaning against the wall. “Ah!” I grabbed them, then sat back on my heels to flip through them. 

Old card. Grocery list. “Doodles? Why did I keep these?” I tossed each aside as I read it. Finally, at the bottom of the pile. “Ah-HA! Get ‘er done list.”

• Hang up photos

• Paint the bathroom 

• Change the porch lightbulb

• Glue the coffee mug back together

• Straighten the picture above the fireplace

• Tack down the carpet so you don’t keep tripping

• Make it to the ball drop on time

“Okay, that’s easy enough. Just no getting distracted.” Pepper sidled up next to me and rubbed against my hip. I scratched his back. “What should I start with?” Pepper mewed, and I pursed my lips. “Gluing the handle back on the mug? Alright.” 

I pushed myself up and rummaged through my junk drawer until I found the tube of superglue, then headed to the small room I’d converted to a library. My broken mug sat on the bookshelf, covered in dust. I’d placed it there to remind myself to fix it over a year ago. I scanned the books on the shelf. So many books, so little time. I fingered them, then pulled one off the shelf. I flipped the book open to chapter one and read it. As I turned the page, I shook my head and slapped it shut. “No. Focus.” 

I shoved the book back into its place and took the mug and broken handle to the kitchen. After I reattached the handle, I got a pen from the drawer and crossed that off the list. “One down, six to go. With…” I glanced at the clock and winced. “Five and a half hours.” 

After another look at the list, I decided to do the thing that would take the longest. Paint the bathroom. I skipped steps as I hurried to the basement to get the paint and supplies I’d purchased a few months ago. Once I had everything balanced in my arms, I clambered up the stairs and into the bathroom, trying not to let the tarp slip from where I’d wedged it between my side and elbow. 

I dumped everything in the bathroom and carefully avoided the upturned carpet as I ran to the living room to turn music on. I found the T.V. remote wedged between the couch cushions and selected the mix of my favorite songs, then turned the volume all the way up. Pepper ran from the room as the music blared through the house. I set a timer on my phone for eleven and propped it on the shelf before I changed into basketball shorts and an old t-shirt and laid the tarp out. Then I frowned at my supplies. I forgot to buy tape. Oh well. I’ll have to do without. And… I left the ladder in the basement. 

After I retrieved the ladder, I set it up, grabbed the cutting brush and set to work, meticulously cutting in against the ceiling. I lost myself in the process of edging and alternately singing along with the music and letting my mind wander back to my current writing project. As I started on the last side of the bathroom, a light caught my attention in my peripheral vision. I glanced at my phone to see my mom’s face on the screen. “Oh.” I tilted the paint cup a little too far as I climbed down from the ladder and paint dripped over the back of my hand. “Aw, man.” I grimaced as I answered with the speakerphone. 

“Hello?”

“Amy? What’s that noise? I can barely hear you.”

“Oh, my music. Hang on.” I turned the speakerphone off and shoved the phone between my shoulder and ear, bumping the paintbrush against my forehead in the process. “Dang it.” I balanced the paint cup on the sink and the paintbrush over the top of it, then ran to the living room. “Oof!” I dropped my phone as I stumbled over the carpet and reached for the remote. I jabbed the mute button, then recovered my phone. 

“Hello?”

“What are you doing?” my mom asked.

“Painting the bathroom.”

“You’re… you found your list, I take it?”

“I did.”

“We started eating already.” Her roundabout way of telling me I was late. Again.

“Um, I’ll be on time for the countdown.”

“Amy.” The disappointment in her voice cut.

“I’ll be there.” 

“Fine. Do you want some help?”

“I can go,” a man offered. 

I couldn’t place the voice, but shook my head. “No. No, that’s fine. I’ll be okay.” 

“Okay.” She drew the word out with doubt.

“For real.”

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Okay, bye.” I hung up and dropped my phone on the coffee table, unmuted the music, then started back to the bathroom, but paused and scowled at the rug. “I’ll take care of you first.” 

I headed back to my junk drawer, found a few nails and a hammer, and bopped my head to the music as I hammered the carpet down. When I returned the hammer to the drawer, I checked on the mug handle, which stuck very nicely, and headed back to the bathroom. 

It took about a half hour to finish edging the bathroom, then I used the roller on the walls. When I finished, I looked it over critically. It’ll need a second coat. I’ll give it an hour or so to dry, then I’ll come back. I jogged back down the steps to check my list again. It took no time at all to straighten the picture above the fireplace. Why did it take me till tonight to get this done? 

“Three and a half jobs done. Two and a half to go.” I glanced at the microwave clock that read seven fifteen. That doesn’t seem right, but I guess I got the first coat on faster than I thought. Now, for the photos. 

I retrieved the hammer again and more nails, then went in search of the picture frames. I found them on my closet floor with the photos already inserted. I wandered through most of the house before I decided on the stairway wall and hung them up. 

After that, I got a new light bulb and carried the ladder onto the porch. “Gah! It’s cold out here.” Pepper stepped onto the porch like he was going to follow me, but when his paw touched the dusting of snow, he scrambled back inside. I chuckled through a shiver as I quickly changed the lightbulb. I flicked the light on as I shoved the ladder back through the door, then nodded in satisfaction when a bright glow lit my porch and front steps. 

I carried the ladder back upstairs and my stomach rumbled as I checked the paint. A quick snack first, then I’ll finish up here. As I grabbed Oreos and peanut butter, I glanced at the clock again. Nine thirty. Plenty of time. I sank onto a stool with a sigh and enjoyed my snack. When the clock read nine forty-five, I went back upstairs to finish the second coat of paint. 

When I finished the last section of the wall, I opened the window. Across the street, everyone in the town hall was gathered around the T.V. with drinks in their hands. “Oh, no.” I searched the bathroom and patted my hips. Phone. Where’s my phone? “Living room.” 

I practically flew down the stairs. When I unlocked my phone, I had five missed calls and realized my loud music had drowned out my alarm. The time on my phone read eleven fifty-eight. It was only then that I remembered I had never changed the time on my microwave when we turned the clocks back in the fall. I slapped my hand to my forehead. “No! No. No. No.” 

I tossed my phone onto the couch, jammed my feet into my boots, and bolted from the house, slamming the door behind me. I was only crossing the street, but I grit my teeth against the cold and crossed my arms over my chest as I ran. When I barged into the town hall, everyone turned to stare at me. I bit my cheek and gently pushed the door shut. 

My long-time friend came over and shoved a glass at me. “You made it, but what in the world are you wearing?” 

I looked down to see I was covered in my paint-splattered basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt. “Oh. Busy night.” I laughed. “I thought I had more time than I did.” I scanned the room again and met the amused looks of my friends and neighbors who were mostly dressed for church, if not an elegant party. 

My friend shook her head as my mother approached.

“Well, you made it,” Mom said with a smirk. “I didn’t think you would.”

I shrugged. “I promised.”

“Ten! Nine!” The people at the front of the crowd started.

We all joined in the countdown. “Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” We all raised our glasses and drank together. I hugged my mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Happy New Year, Amy.”

A man’s voice. I turned to see Freddie, a hesitant smile on his bearded and very handsome face. My eyes widened as I looked him up and down. I’d seen him on video and knew he had grown up, but seeing him here before me was quite a different matter. My stomach twisted in knots and heat crept up my cheeks. 

“You’ve got a little something…” He pointed to my cheek, then chuckled and gestured at me. “Well, everywhere.”

“What?” I looked down again and noticed the paint splatters on my legs and arms. I wished I could sink into the ground. As I looked back up, my eyes caught on a book he held under his arm. My book. My fiction book. I raised my eyes and met his gaze.

He took the book out and held it up. “I’ve followed your writing. You’re really good. You do a great job sharing meaning and purpose through the characters’ journeys.”

I blinked at him. Words. What are they? Do I know any? 

“Look, I wanted to apologize to you. I know what I said before we moved hurt you. I didn’t mean it that way, but it… I just meant,” he hesitated and shifted his feet. “Honestly, I was jealous of how much time you spent with your books.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It sounds ridiculous, but you were my best friend, and it seemed like all you ever wanted to talk about was books. I’ve wanted to contact you for years, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. With the way you stormed off, I thought it would be better to apologize in person. I’m only sorry it took me so long. Do you think you could forgive me?”

Forgive him? I nodded slowly. If he keeps this up, I just might kiss him. Sweat broke out on my forehead and I pressed a hand to my cheek. I can’t believe I just thought that! And about Freddie! 

He released a deep breath. “Thank you.” He smiled and my heart melted. He tilted his head toward the crowd, who had separated into groups of dancers and talkers. “Dance with me?”

He had to remember that I couldn’t dance. Words finally returned to me. “But, I don’t-”

“I don’t care.” He set my book on a table and held out his hand.

I raised an eyebrow at him and he raised one right back at me, a playful challenge in his eyes. I squinted at him and he bowed. 

“Okay, then.” I grinned and, with exaggerated grace and dignity, placed my hand in his. A dance with Freddie hadn’t been on my list, but I wasn’t about to argue. He didn’t know it, but he’d just rocked my boat… and I didn’t mind one bit.