Page 2 of Façade

“I would love to go over the reports,” I said.

Amusement glistened in his eyes as he leaned closer to whisper into my ear. “Liar.” But his tone remained playful, assuring me he wasn’t upset by my feelings.

“It’s not a lie: I’d love nothing more than to go over the reportsfor you.” I’d do anything for my parents.

His humor vanished, replaced with the adoring, fatherly look I so cherished. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

After another gentle tug on my earlobe, he reached for the stack on the table—one so large I could almost feel the remaining hours of my day melt into the tedium awaiting me. I reluctantly accepted the reports with as impassive an expression as I could muster; by the twinkle in Father’s eyes, he’d easily seen past my mask.

I adjusted the stack in my arms, doing my best not to wrinkle them. “When do you need them by?” How I hoped it wasn’t soon; deadlines caused me undo anxiety because my sporadic focus made it impossible to control how long my tasks took.

“This evening, if you can manage it.”

I nearly groaned.This evening?As tempted as I was to complain, I merely nodded in acquiescence before glancing towards Mother for her usual reassuring smile. Instead, she stood rigidly on Father’s arm, her gaze faraway, as if distracted. It was unlike her not to be present in our interactions, and my earlier concern over what could possibly be worrying her returned. My gaze flickered back towards Father and noticed his own worry hidden beneath his cheerful countenance, the lines surrounding his eyes tight with tension.

“What—”

He ignored my half-spoken question as he hastily turned his back on me to lead Mother from the room, pausing only at the sudden arrival of a footman bearing a missive.

“Your Majesty.” He extended it with a bow.

Both Father and Mother stiffened, their careful composure finally faltering as their gazes darted back towards me. Mother’s face had gone deathly pale, whereas gravity filled Father’s usual regal manner.

“Thank you.” He seized the missive without opening it and hastily tucked it away as if to hide whatever secrets its contents contained.

Now that we were away from the watchful eyes of the court, I didn’t bother to hide my frown. I’d lost track of how many secret missives had been delivered these past several weeks. I’d never been more tempted to eavesdrop on my parents’ private conversations or snoop in their study for the elusive answers, but I respected and loved them too much to ever betray their trust.

Yet the temptation was growing more and more difficult to resist, especially when this newest missive was accompanied by such uncharacteristic behavior. “What is—”

“Nothing, Evelyn,” Father said in a rush. “See to those reports. We’ll see you at tea.” And without another word, he escorted Mother from the room.

I stared after them, tempted to follow, before determinedly straightening my shoulders. Whatever troubles currently burdened them, my curiosity would only add to that weight. Though hurt prickled my heart at their refusal to confide in me, I trusted they had a reason for their secrecy. I’d see to the task they’d given me as a way to help ease their burden.

I took the daunting stack of reports to the library, my favorite place to study, as if the cocoon of shelves could lend me the focus I required. However, today the room held an abundance of distractions that for once I welcomed—anything to escape the tedium my dull duty presented, as well as my escalating worries concerning my parents’ peculiar behavior.

As soon as I settled at the desk, I kicked off my shoes, sighing in relief the moment my feet were no longer confined in their silk prison. I wriggled my toes before tucking one of my legs up onto the chair, a rather improper way for a princess to sit, but with no one to witness the faux pas except for the books and my usual guard who’d long grown used to my eccentrics, I was too weary to pretend.

I turned to the first report, but it took only a few lines before my mind wandered. First to my parents and the mysterious missives they’d been receiving. Then to the pretty patterns cast by the sunlight tumbling through the nearby window across the papers, creating a truly lovely effect. Then to the different books lining the shelves in various sizes and shades, each inviting me to wonder what information and stories they contained within their pages. To idly wondering which sweets would be at tea, to thinking about the long barefoot walk I’d taken this morning, to wondering whether my handmaiden was still cross with me for having to clean my dirty hem after I’d gotten my skirts soiled while wading before tearing them while climbing my favorite tree…only for my thoughts to eventually circle back to my parents.

No Evelyn, you must focus on the reports. It was an effort to wrangle my thoughts into submission enough to concentrate on the difficult wording, and after several rereads to take in the information, I realized the subject concerned protecting Estoria’s magic. I nearly groaned. I hated this topic, for though the subject itself was fascinating, it only served as a constant reminder of my primary shortcoming.

Still, I was determined to press on. I read a few more lines before I became distracted once more—this time in searching for that elusive power I was supposed to possess, wondering as I had countless times why my magic was so delayed in arriving. I wished it’d manifest itself soon; then perhaps I could finally earn the court’s seemingly unattainable respect and escape the constant sense I wasn’t measuring up to the expectations for not just a princess, but their future queen.

Yet part of me feared my powers’ arrival, for I’d likely be as inadequate at wielding magic as I seemed to be with everything else. And if I couldn’t be good at magic…how would I ever be a good queen?

Not for the first time, I wondered just what sort of princess I was when I repeatedly failed to live up to the title, no matter how hard I tried.

* * *

Hours later,I found myself not at the desk where I’d begun my duties, but sprawled on the nearest settee, my skirts hiked up for greater ease of movement and my fingers burrowed in my now untamed hair as I struggled through the stack of reports. But no matter how hard I concentrated, the words blurred together as my focus waned, even as the words I managed to glean jumbled in my mind, making it impossible for me to make sense of them.

I let out an unladylike groan, quiet enough for the nearby maid dusting the library shelves not to overhear, but my grace was short-lived when someone cleared their throat behind me. I swiveled in my seat to find a footman watching me with an awkward expression. I bit my lip to keep my second condemning grumble at bay. It appeared my falter in poise had been overheard after all.

Oh bother.

Too late I straightened my sloppy posture and offered a demure smile in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassing situation, but by the disapproval pursing the servant’s lips, I could tell my efforts did little to dispel his memory of the future queen behaving so ridiculously.

“Can I help you?” I shakily managed.

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