My mother had her first crush when she was fourteen years of age.
****Dear Secret Holder,
Kent has to be the sweetest creature to exist. He is simply marvellous to look at. He has big brown eyes and long ears that remind me of the elves in Napoleon’s silly books. His nose is rather small for his face and his blond hair is longer than most girls. Camille told me that I had a crush on Kent and for all my toughness I was being silly about a boy. Me? Silly? Stuff like that does not happen to me. I am simply too honest for my own good. He's a sweet creature to look at and I can admit it. But I am not talking about him all the time or thinking gross things about him like Camille does with all those boys. Camille says she
The entry ended right there and I guessed she had either fallen asleep or got distracted while writing.
“What are you reading so intently?” I had not seen Harriet step into my room. Luckily for me, I had prepared myself for this situation. I had placed the journal inside a bigger book so no one would see what I was reading. Before Harriet could get too close, I slipped the journal underneath my sleeves.
“Do you want to read it?” I lifted the book for Harriet to get a better look at it but Harriet shook her head and I smiled. She hated reading.
“Micah is wondering how long it takes one to recover from childbirth. She says it's been months,” Harriet said, picking up Charlotte from her crib.
“I can resume my training right away,” was my response to which Harriet frowned.
“I already told her next month. There is no rush,” returned Harriet.
“How has your training been?” I asked her and she laughed.
“What do you take me for? I am a very loyal person. I will not train without you,” came her reply and we both laughed. I understood now why she had told Micah to push our training to next month.
I was curious about Micah though. Was it the same Micah that trained us that trained our parents?
“Micah looks pretty young but seems to know a lot,” I said. I could not directly ask about her age as that might trigger suspicion.
“Well, I know Micah is older than I am. Micah has been here before I was born,” Harriet said with a casual shrug whilst making faces at Charlotte who looked at her transfixed.
Days later, Uncle Napoleon invited me to his private study for a chat. Up until now, I saw him every day at breakfast. I wondered what it was that he wanted to speak to me about.
“Uncle?” I quipped as I entered his private study. He seemed pleased to see me and motioned for me to sit down.
“How is Reginald doing?” he asked in a pleasant tone. I replied that he was fine but I could not stop myself from wondering what his motive was for asking me these questions. According to my mother's diary, Napoleon was never nice without a reason that would benefit him. So as I sat across from him, I wondered what he could possibly gain from being nice to me.
“I have excused you thus far from your royal duties because I believe you should have some education as it pertains to our ways before you join the Royal court,” he said and I listened intently, trying to dissect every word and inflexion of his voice for a motive.
“I would like for you to resume your duties in court starting next week,” he said to me.
“It will be an honour, Uncle. But I am yet to complete my training with Micah,” came my response.
“Micah tells me you have made amazing progress. You continue to train for the sake of Harriet. It is hard to motivate her to do anything. I would like her to resume her Royal duties alongside you in court next week. I hope it is not asking too much if I tell you to watch over her,” my uncle said.
“Not at all. Harriet is dear to me,” came my reply and I meant it. I could not detect anything wrong with Uncle Napoleon. Could it be that grandmother was mistaken? Or that my mother's diary had been written completely out of her own bias?
“That will be all Regina, except there's anything you would like to discuss with me?” he asked, looking at my face expectantly but my face remained blank. I had no request to make.
“It must be tough looking after those two. I can get you a maid to look after them full-time,” he suggested but I refused immediately.
“I am fine with the current arrangement. I like waking up to see my children beside me.”
“Reginald will need his room when he's older,” he said.
“Of course but right now he is a baby,” I said with a tight smile on my face.
“I understand. You are a better mother than my mother. Mother did not bother with us until we were like five. She hated that we cried all the time,” he said it like he was remembering a fun memory but sincerely that was no way to speak about grandmother.
When he saw that I remained quiet, he added, “I heard you met her a few days back.”
“I ran into her at the library. She was crying when I saw her,” came my response. I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“You did not talk about anything?” he asked. He failed to make his tone casual.
“She kept crying and muttering, Marilyn. I took it that she missed my mother very much. She seemed out of it or I would have asked her what sort of person my mother had been,” I said to him.
He seemed to squirm a little in his chair but other than that, there was no strange reaction from him.