Monarchy Read online

  All rights reserved, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the prior permission of the author.

  Published 6 April 2012

  Exclusively to Amazon.com

  Copyright © Nicola Erasmus 2012

  Cover Art Copyright © Nicole van Schalkwyk 2012

  ISBN - 978-0-620-53037-8

  For Pa Rocks.

  Your voice may be silent but your words remain.

  Monarchy

  Nicola Erasmus

  Chapter 1

  “As individuals we have fought for centuries against this kind of oppression. The kind of an unelected rule we did not seek. These people have lived a life of majesty at our expense since the first one was apparently anointed by God himself. These aren’t leaders we chose, no! These are elevated commoners living a life of luxury we are paying oh, so, generously for. Disband the Monarchy, we call! For then, and only then we will truly be a nation of equity. Disband the Monarchy! Disband the Monarchy!” The protest leader shouted over the megaphone just outside the palace walls. The crowd joined in, feverishly chanting the same sentence over and over like rolling thunder.

  But on the other side the sound was muffled in the morning sun. The Queen’s pride roses were entering their full bloom and the faint smell of lavender brought a contrasting calmness on the warm breeze. The King’s head was hung low deep in thought this morning while strolling through the garden with his youngest daughter.

  “Your mother has cancer.” He suddenly said in an official tone.

  Elsie fought back the shock by focusing her attention on a pink rose bush in front of her. She had known for some time now that the Queen was not well but had thought that it was probably just a bug going around.

  “How long will her recovery take?”

  “I’m sorry, Elsie but…its terminal. She has three, maybe four months to live.” he said gravely.

  “What? But surely there must be something…”

  The King shook his head, tears swelling up in his eyes. “All the doctors can do now is to make her last days with us as comfortable as possible.”

  That can’t be true, Elsie thought. Royalty didn’t die of something as common as cancer. They died in a glow of romantic symbolism, in battle, in child birth. Elsie took a deep breath to compose herself.

  “Elsie,“ the King sighed, “this might not be the best time to discuss this but rather sooner than later when we might be overcome by emotion. I want to abdicate after the Queen’s passing.”

  “Excuse me for asking, sir, but do you truly think that to be wise? What would the people say? Unless…”

  The King walked along, oblivious to her suggestion for a moment before laughing. “Oh, heavens no, Elsie, no woman could ever replace your mother. I just think I will be doing the nation a favor, the last thing they need is a ruler in mourning. What happens after my resignation has already been under debate for years.”

  Elsie thought of ways to dodge the inevitable topic she knew was coming. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke carefully. “Does Gwen know?”

  The King shrugged. “I left her a message but I doubt whether she’ll respond.”

  Gwen was Elsie’s older sister who bade the royal life goodbye years ago to become a student of the world. They haven’t spoken since. The only way they kept track of her whereabouts was through credit card statements that arrived at the palace monthly. According to the last one she was somewhere in a motel in Rio de Janeiro, in the throes of an insane drinking binge in celebration of her 25th birthday. She didn’t renounce her title, traveling around the world for six years wasn’t against the law neither did any rule exist that forced her to devote all her time to a life inside a velvet lined cage. As far as the official explanation goes, she was on a drawn out diplomatic tour of the world…a very drawn out tour.

  “If she has any regard for us left in her she’ll return home to be by our side through this time,” The King continued, “and when she does, I will discuss with her the option to hand down her title to you as it’s obvious that becoming Queen is not high on her list of aspirations.”

  “Forgive me once again, sir but I feel that I am hardly capable of becoming Queen myself.”

  “My dear princess, you are more than capable, at the very least more capable than your sister could ever be.”

  “I am seventeen, Sir. Not even a likely age to be making decisions surrounding my own well-being yet, let alone make decisions on account of millions of others’.” Elsie wanted to scream that she didn’t want the stupid title. That all she wanted was to have a normal life but she kept her tongue knowing, that it wasn’t her choice to make.

  The King sighed once more, clearly tired and under pressure. “Many monarchies have had successful matriarchs much younger than you. Certainly, their rule wasn’t without the odd controversy but their approach was fresh, in touch with the times and that’s exactly what our kingdom needs.”

  “The odd controversy? You make it sound as though one can be forgiven for having the odd ‘let them have cake’ moment.”

  “Well, it depends on the cake.” The King laughed. His voice had a pinch of bitter sweetness just before Elsie caught a glimpse of a tear trailing down his cheek.

  She lightly took his hand in comfort. “We’ll get through this father. They don’t call us royalty for nothing.”

  They reached the stairs of the palace’s back porch.

  “Thank you, for the stroll, Your Highness.” the King said his official self again.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Elsie bent a knee in acknowledgement.

  The moment the King’s shoes touched the bottom stair he was swallowed by a sea of people waiting on him. His chamber gent, a young knight only known to her as Sir Windsbury, was reading the King’s schedule for the day from a thick, leather bound organizer while a chamber maid was dusting the King’s shoes with a fluffy brush.

  Elsie turned her gaze back to the garden. There was a chill in the breeze now and the usually beautiful roses seemed to wither before her eyes.

  Chapter 2

  In the shadows of the Queen Marie Park, where trees subtly hid the palace from everyday prying eyes, a small ember glowed. The usually neat lawn was still littered with flyers outlining the evils of royalty. The shadow crumpled up the flyer she had in her hand and aimed it at a nearby trash bin. She fumbled in her pockets for something, found it and fiddled with it mindlessly in her left hand. She took another drag of her cigarette and threw the bud to the ground, snuffing it with a turn of her leather boot. She took a deep breath, picked up her back pack and placed the golden ring she took from her pocket moments before on her index finger before emerging from the shadows to determinately walk towards the palace gates.

  Her heart raced as she almost reached the high gates. The guard was eyeing her suspiciously, slightly uncomfortable, probably wondering about her intention and the best way to handle it. She ignored him and walked straight up to the gate.

  “Halt!’ he shouted.

  She froze with her hand still on the wrought iron.

  “How dare you think about entering the house of royalty?”

  She smiled and lifted her hand showing the guard the golden ring. “I have a key.”

  His attitude turned from bravery to skepticism and then, after examining her features in the dim light, to disbelief. “Oh, forgive me. Welcome home…Your Highness.” he said with a bow.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Gwen pushed open the gate and strut with the air of authority she had been hiding from for years towards the palace.

  “Yes, I’m sure. She looks like hell itself but it’s definitely her.” she heard the guard whisper over the radio behind her. She climbed the stairs slowly, giving the rumor of her arrival time to spread through the
palace. The doors weren’t locked, of course, and the smell of the palace overwhelmed her with disgust as she opened the doors.

  A poor chamber maid, she didn’t recognize stood quivering in the entrance hall. Her eyes were as huge as dinner plates as she stood deciding whether it was expected of her to show some kind of respect.

  “Don’t bother.” Gwen sneered as the maid attempted to bend a trembling knee. She slid her backpack across the floor like a child plainly returning from school.

  The palace had not changed a speck since she left. To her right the grand living room with its Victorian lounge suite still looked like a museum display and to her left the throne room beyond its glass paneled doors still showed off centuries of history. She ascended the grand staircase. The marble felt cold even through the thick soles of her boots and the over polished wood of the railings felt fake beneath her palm.

  “Halloo!” she howled up at the second floor and waited for the familiar four corner echoes to answer.

  “Yip, even the damn echoes are still here” she mumbled to herself and turned her attention to the closed dining room doors behind her. She looked down at her watch. Just past seven it showed. She smiled maliciously once again and pushed open the doors.

  There was a clinking of cutlery all around the table. Her sister shifted in her chair, the King let out a grunt and her mother, frailer than she ever thought she would look, gasped. All of them looked at her, stunned.

  “Could somebody get a camera,” she yelled. “This is definitely a Kodak moment!”

  Elsie felt torn at Gwen’s arrival. A part of her wanted to jump up and give her sister the warm welcome hug she deserved but in all the other parts the anger of Gwen, abandoning her all those years ago flamed up all over again.

  “Oh, I’m great. Thanks a lot for asking.” Gwen said sarcastically as she sat down in the chair opposite Elsie. “Hey, John,” she greeted Sir Windsbury on his post in the corner of the dining room. “How ‘bout bringing a lady something to drink?”

  “Would a glass of water suffice?” he answered dryly.

  Gwen laughed. “Still a bundle of cheer, aren’t you? Bring me some of Daddy’s fine scotch, on the rocks and maybe one all around too. Looks like everyone could do with a slap.”

  The atmosphere around the table got thicker by the moment. The King picked up his knife and fork and continued eating as though Gwen was just a gush of wind that passed through. Gwen leaned back in her chair and took out a cigarette just as Sir Windsbury returned with three glasses and a bottle of whiskey. (Not the King’s finest, though). The King silently nodded when offered a glass and continued eating.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous!” the Queen exclaimed. “Where on earth have you been, Guinevere? I’ve been worried sick.”

  “Quite literally, apparently” Gwen mumbled, tapping the unlit cigarette on the table.

  “You watch what you say to the Queen.” the King sneered.

  “I’m sorry, Father. One tends to up the defenses when they receive such warm welcome.”

  “SIX YEARS, GUINEVERE! SIX YEARS AND NOT ONE PHONE CALL, NOT ONE LETTER, NOT EVEN A DAMN ‘WISH YOU WERE HERE’ POSTCARD!” the King grew a horrid shade of purple as he screamed and a dead silence fell throughout the palace. “You, my dear princess, should be damn grateful I’m not banishing you to wherever it is you came from.”

  Elsie wished she could excuse herself and get away from the unpleasant conversation unfolding but etiquette stated that she could only be excused by the King who was now wrapped up in what seems to be the start of a fight that could last for months.

  Gwen emptied her glass of whiskey in one gulp and gestured to Sir Windsbury for another. “I was busy living and thought it inappropriate to gloat about my newfound freedom outside this cursed court.”

  “Then why aren’t you busy living right now? Why did you come back now?” the King pushed his plate aside and got up threateningly.

  “I’m confused, Father. Did you inform me of the Queen’s ailing health as part of some twisted plot so you could have the pleasure of kicking me out yourself? Don’t lie, the day I left was one of the best days of your life except that I did it on my own terms and not yours.”

  “You had the right to know about the Queen.”

  “And deep down you sincerely wanted me here, so, why the hostility?”

  The King couldn’t answer. Instead he also emptied his glass of whiskey and left the dining room without another word.

  “My room’s still in the same place, John?” Gwen asked before emptying her second glass.

  “Yes. It’s being fitted with fresh linen as we speak.” he answered.

  “Thanks. I’ve had a very long trip and wish not to be disturbed at all tomorrow. Goodnight mother. Goodnight Elsie.” she said and stomped out. Outside she screamed a foul comment that echoed of the palace walls.

  The Queen winced and Elsie could see the hurt in her eyes.

  “I’m exhausted as well. Sir Windsbury, please tell the kitchen staff that I am sure the apple dumplings would have been delicious but I regret my appetite is a bit off. Goodnight, Princess.” She got up and left Elsie confused and alone to make sense of what had happened all on her own, as always.

  Chapter 3

  It felt like she slept for only a few seconds. Elsie wished she could somehow steal just a few more minutes but the marching band’s morning practice in the park made it impossible. She sleepily found her slippers in the dark and got up to go to the bathroom.

  She thought she was mistaken at first but realized that the door of the bathroom adjoining her room with Gwen’s was indeed locked. Elsie sighed, thinking of how she was going to miss not having to share.

  She knocked but there was no reply.

  “Gwen?” she called but the room remained silent.

  “Gwen, are you in there?”

  Silence.

  “Oh no, you didn’t!” She shouted.

  Gwen had forgotten to unbolt the door from her side. This was like being eight and sharing a bathroom with a teenage sister all over again.

  “Gwen! Please open the door for me.”

  Silence.

  Elsie banged her foot on the ground and decided to try and enter the bathroom from Gwen’s side. The palace corridors were already buzzing with activity. Two servants, who were whispering gossip to each other outside her door, gave her an amazed look as she emerged inappropriately still dressed in her nightgown and stomped furiously over to Gwen’s door.

  “Guinevere!” she banged loudly on the door.

  Silence.

  She gave a cry of irritation and turned the knob. Surprisingly, this door was unlocked.

  Gwen was still asleep, even though her curtains were already open and the door of her balcony stood ajar. Elsie could hear music blaring from the Mp3-player headphones in her ears.

  “GWEN!” Elsie banged her foot on the ground again and slammed the door behind her.

  “Buzz off. I’m sleeping.” Gwen groaned.

  “I need to go.”

  “Then go.”

  “I can’t get in.”

  “Then how did you get in just now? Through the balcony?”

  “I can’t get into the bathroom because you bolted the door from your side, you stupid….” Elsie bit her tongue just in time.

  Gwen gave a dry laugh. “Can’t swear can you? God, you’ve turned into mother.”

  “Thank you for the compliment.” Elsie scoffed.

  “I didn’t mean it to be one.” Gwen said as she drew the covers further over her head.

  “Who on earth are you?” Elsie asked with disgust.

  Gwen mumbled something inaudible before lazily sitting up in bed. It was the first time since her return the previous night that Elsie could really look at her. Her hair was cut short on the one side while the other side was left hanging to her one ear in which she wore three earrings and as she opened her mouth to take a swig of the glass of liquor that stood on the bedside table, Elsie could see the brief glint of a
tongue ring. On the inside of her right forearm a tattoo in giant gothic font read ‘Princess’.

  Gwen lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Elsie’s direction. “I thought you needed to go?”

  “I did.”

  “Then why are you still gracing me with your presence?”

  “I asked you a question. What happened to you?” Elsie tried to find any sign of the sister she once knew in the woman that sat before her.

  “You like it? I call it, free from this damn life.”