Chapter 9: The Oak Tree

A few days later, a scribe wearing a lavish cape and a gold-embossed hat arrived at Emelia’s doors bearing a letter from the Prince. The envelope was sealed with the royal signet, and she accepted it nervously. She ran her slender fingers over the wax, then opened it carefully and pulled out a thin piece of parchment. With trembling hands, Emelia read the contents.

Dear Emelia,

Please meet me in the woods by the old oak tree at 2 pm.

Yours,

Prince James

Emelia held the letter in her hands and re-read it. She felt guilty, remembering the harsh words she had said out of frustration the last time they spoke. She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and with dread, guilt, and curiosity, she decided to meet him and apologize for her comments. She only hoped that he would still be there to accept her apology by the time she arrived.

Emelia’s hands shook as she rifled through the wardrobe, finally pulling out a long, black cloak and feeling the heavy fabric between her fingers. She tucked the letter into her pocket and quickly collected her curly ebony hair, fastening it into a neat bun. She grabbed the cloak’s hood and drew it over her head, concealing her features from prying eyes. She cautiously inched towards the door, checking over her shoulder multiple times to ensure no one was watching before slipping out of the room and down the servants’ stairwells.

She snuck out of the servants’ door, which creaked ever so slightly as it opened. The palace was alive with the sound of clattering dishes and shouted orders from the kitchen. Just outside, the crisp air bit her exposed skin, and the trees had turned pale, their leafless branches shaking in the autumn breeze. She could make out the other side of the garden through the scattered foliage, its colors dulled by the winter frost that settled over Cornea’s lands like a heavy blanket.

As Emelia walked through gardens named in remembrance of Queen Lily, she was struck by their grandeur. The immaculately trimmed hedgerows and topiaries created a wall of green that stretched out in every direction, making her feel as if she’d stepped into another world. As she turned down the twisting paths, Emelia passed by a large water fountain, admiring its artistry before she reached a break in the foliage. Large vines wound up the sides of a hidden entrance to the palace beyond.

At the end of the curving path, a majestic old oak tree rose in the distance, its leaves rustling in the warm breeze. James was sitting on an ivory picnic blanket beneath its branches, with a bright red and blue plaid spread of food and water. When he saw her, his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly stood to his feet and dusted off his casual attire – a navy blue long-sleeved tunic paired with tan slacks. She wanted to tell him how handsome he looked, but it was obvious how he held himself that everyone already knew.

He had finger-combed his hair back from his face, which was redder than usual. His hair was a tousled mess, as if he’d run his fingers through it multiple times out of nerves. He wrung his hands together repeatedly, although she couldn’t fathom why; perhaps it was due to anxiety. Or maybe his nervousness had to do with something else entirely. “Emelia,” he said, “thank you for coming.” He forced a smile onto his lips, but his eyes betrayed his apprehension.

Emelia approached him beneath the oak tree, where the sun filtered through its leaves and illuminated his face. Her heart raced as she cleared her throat and spoke, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day in the library,” she said, feeling the guilt tugging at her stomach. Her voice softened, “It wasn’t fair to you.”

James’ mouth dropped open, and he stepped closer to her. “It was more than fair, Emelia,” he said, his voice quiet and earnest. He looked back at the picnic he had prepared that was spread out on the grass, arranged with checkered dishes and orange juice that glinted in the sun. He then looked back at her with hopeful eyes. “Will you please join me?”

Emelia nervously perched on the edge of the plaid picnic blanket, her movements guarded and timid, as if she were afraid to get too close. Her eyes darted over the snacks he had obviously gone to great lengths to prepare—local eggs in a basket, perfectly ripe fruit, and glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice. She could feel the words lining up in her throat, each one an effort to ask the question that had haunted her for weeks. “What was I to you?” she asked finally, her voice hoarse with emotion. The air seemed to hang heavy with their unspoken truths until the silence finally broke it.

James gazed at her with wide, watery eyes. His bottom lip quivered, and a single tear slid down his cheek. His voice cracked as he said, “You were—are my first love.” The longing in his voice was palpable, and the air between them thickened with sadness and regret.

Emelia’s gaze swept over his face, examining every eyeball flicker and every furrowed brow. Her voice was soft but urgent as she asked, “Then why did you sleep with those other girls?”

James’s fingers fumbled with a loose thread on the thick cotton of the blanket. He suddenly became aware of Emelia’s gaze as she waited expectantly for him to continue. He cleared his throat and spoke softly. “I’m expected to marry a royal. It’s an obligation, but it’s not what I want.” He looked into her eyes, his own deepening to a dark blue. “They’re not you. I never wanted them. I want you.”

“Then why am I here?” Emelia asked, gesturing to the romantic scene he had prepared for her. “If you’re to marry a royal...”

James looked away, and his face contorted with emotion. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed before finally bringing himself to speak. “I was wrong. Whatever I thought before doesn’t matter anymore... I just want to be with you.” His voice was quiet but filled with conviction.

He moved closer, his gaze captivating her. Her breath caught in her throat as she trembled at his touch. “We can’t,” she said as he tenderly brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He gently kissed her cheeks, and she allowed herself to finally succumb to his embrace, her eyes fluttering shut, her body melting into his.

Emelia’s heart pounded as James’s face moved closer and closer to hers until their lips were almost touching. His warm breath on her skin sent electric pulses through her body as his lips pressed against hers and his arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel the ice around her heart beginning to thaw. As their embrace ended, she pulled back and took a deep breath, unable to look him in the eye. “I can’t, James. I know we never agreed to be together, but it still hurts. Can’t we just go back to being friends...for now?”

James’ expression softened, and his eyes twinkled with a glimmer of hope. He knew it was a risk to let Emelia into his heart, but the thought of spending more time with her was something he couldn’t resist. He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “But of course,” he said in a low voice.

Emelia’s lips parted in a relieved smile, and a warm feeling of release flooded through her. “Thank you,” she said, and for the first time all day, the corners of her eyes crinkled with gratitude.

She scooted to the edge of her blanket and rose, ready to say good day, but James shot up and grabbed her wrist, his eyes dancing with mischief. His lips curled into that familiar seductive smile. “Care for one more kiss before you go?”

Emelia’s lips curled into a faint smile, and she gently pried his fingers from her wrist. “Dream on,” she said with a small laugh, her voice like a gentle summer breeze. She felt relieved as she walked back to the castle, happy to have her friend by her side again.