Freya has done it. After years of dreaming, she finally got a ticket for the King’s palace ball–and she wishes that she never purchased it. The night before, she learns of a separatist plot to burn down the palace from the inside. Now, she’s must hide she knows of the plan when one of the separatists drums up conversation with her outside the palace doors.
Written in a college creative writing class with the single-word prompt “secret.”
Secret
As I walk between the guards, I feel my palms sweat under my gloves. Can they sense my fear?
I move past the guards and through the open gates without being flagged down, so I guess not. Stepping onto the stone bridge over the palace’s wide moat, I step on my skirt and stumble forwards. It takes all I have to stop the momentum and keep myself from falling on my face.
I lift up my foot, pull the purple, velvet cloth out from underneath, and keep moving. The amount of trouble this dress has caused me is laughable. I had to pick up so many extra shifts at the tavern in order to pay for it, I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s rest in over a month.
I certainly haven’t slept since waiting the table of a separatists group at the tavern that’s planning to crash the King’s party. I overheard bits and pieces of their plan as I brought them drink after drink, and watched as they roped an inconspicuous man into doing their dirty work. I don’t know much, but I did hear them mention that the man was to start a fire at some point during the party. Where is the fire going to be, when will he start it, and if the fire is the only thing the separatists are planning to do tonight, are all questions that float around my head as I travel up the bridge towards the magnificent marble and gold palace.
Ever since I was a girl, it had always been a dream of mine to visit the palace. I waited patiently for years, hoping that one day a ticket would fall in my lap. When one of the King’s messengers came into the tavern with a roll of tickets, I jumped to purchase one. My dream was finally coming true. But then I learned what the separatists were planning.
I almost decided to not show up. But not using a ticket to the palace is almost as large of a crime as treason. I have to go, otherwise the King’s loyal followers will grow suspicious.
The further down the bridge I walk, the more crowded it gets. At the other side of the bridge, the crowd is at a standstill, everyone waiting for the towering, golden palace doors to open.
Then I see him. Standing off to the left, impatiently tapping his foot with his arms crossed in front of him, is the man from the tavern who volunteered to start the fire later.
I wonder. Maybe I can make some conversation with him? Learn more about the separatists’ plan? I’m not worried that he’ll recognize me. The patrons of the tavern barely spare us worn, overworked waitresses a second glance.
I draw closer. He looks a lot more alert than he was at the tavern, his bright blue eyes darting around to scan the surrounding people. I almost make it to his spot in the crowd just as a woman elbows me in the shoulder. “Watch it!”
I stumble, losing my balance again and crashing straight into the man.
I scramble to pick myself up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine.” His voice sounds genuine, my little blunder doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. Though maybe he just has enough going on in his mind. I can sense his fear- he breathes at an unsteady pace, and he wrings his hands together so tightly they’re red.
“You look worried,” I say, deciding to call him out on it. “Important night?”
“Umm, yeah.” But then he quickly tacks on, “I mean, it’s not every day you get a ticket to one of the King’s parties.”
“That’s true.” I nod.
As people start to fill in around us, I’m forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
“My name is Freya.”
“Aaron.” He holds out his hand. I shake it.
“So, have you been to one of the King’s parties before?”
“Once, yes.” Aaron nods. “Though it was a much smaller party than tonight’s.”
“I see.” I slowly nod. “Are there any special traditions the King has at his parties that I should be aware of?” I turn to face him. “Or perhaps, anything to avoid?”
“Nope. Nothing to worry about tonight.” He turns away for a few moments. Swallows again. Then he turns back. “Except for the fruitcake. Don’t try it.” He laughs, but it sounds forced.
“Got it.” I force a laugh too. Then the conversation goes dull. I need to say something to get him talking again.
“So, anything…special, you have planned tonight?” I know I’m being too direct, but I’m a waiter, not a detective. I’m not quite sure how best to navigate an interrogation.
“Not really, no,” He answers too quickly. “Just meeting new people. Having a good time. You know?”
“I suppose.” I shrug. “I don’t get out much, so I don’t know what kind of things people usually get up to at parties.”
“That’s impossible. With a gown like that, there’s no way you’ve never been out for a night of fun.”
I smooth the top of my skirt self-consciously. “It’s new.”
“I see.” He looks the dress up and down. “Then how did you find yourself at this party? Did your husband get you both tickets?”
“I’m not married.”
“Ah. So your boyfriend, then?
“No! I’m not seeing anyone right now.” I’m getting annoyed with him. I’m supposed to be asking him questions, I don’t exactly know how the topic shifted to my love life. “But what about you? How did you get a ticket to this party?”
“Oh, you know, I just happened across a ticket.” He waves me off. “But what about you? A single middle-aged woman, out at her first party, sparking conversation with the first middle-aged guy she sees. It sounds to me like this is more than a friendly conversation you’re trying to spark with me right now.”
I pause after his statement, unsure how to reply. I’m confused- are my questions coming across as flirtatious?
“Don’t feel embarrassed, Freya,” Aaron continues. “There’s no need to hide your true intentions for tonight. You and I are both here to meet people. Maybe I can save you a dance. Or buy you something to drink?”
“I don’t drink,” I quickly reply. I’ve served enough drunks in at the tavern to put me off from taking even a sip of alcohol for the rest of my life. “But sure. I guess we could dance later.”
While I don’t want to dance with him, It’s probably better to keep him close. If I keep my eyes on him at all times, then I’ll know when he’s about to go through with the plan.
“Excellent.” His eyes light up, and for a moment he seems to forget the reason he’s here.
Shouts of excitement come from somewhere in the front of the crowd, and quickly spread towards us.
“The gates are open!” The villagers cheer. The crowd shuffles around as people butt ahead in line, and I’m pushed away from Aaron as quickly as I was shoved into him.
“I’ll see you inside.”
“See you,” I call after him. And then he’s gone, two villagers fill into the place where he once stood.