The Royal Games

Snow fell as I look out my bedroom window sat with my knees up on the windowsill. Eyes wide and jumping up off the window seat as the delivery boy came down the road, unhooking the squeaky gate and puffing out white air as he dug his hands into his satchel pulling out a paper wrapped parcel with string. As well as some white envelopes lying on top. My bare feet pad down the cold dark wood staircase and floor to the front door. A nice quick clear path to the door. Running full speed, my feet slide and lose control, until I whack into the door.

‘Ouch.’ I whimpered to myself as I slowly got up. Open one of the heavy old dark wooden double doors. Just as the boy had his fist, mid air ready to knock. ``Thank you, I’ll be taking them.’ I said, snatching them off him. My once tied curly blonde turning brown hair hung loose after my fall, quickly tucking the strands away. I flip through the mail. Still with the door open and the boy stood there. ‘No … no … no … ah!’ I said as I spot the cream envelope that I’ve been waiting for so I now can complete my plan. With the gold wax stamp on the back moulded into the royal crest of two swans facing each other with bowed heads, a crown between their heads as well as a shield and sword placed under the crown, with some fancy swirls underneath it all. With fancy cursive handwriting that I can barely read, I do believe it says my name ‘To Miss Harriet Anastasia Blair Douglas’. I tuck it up the bottom for my bodice, where my bodice and skirt meet. Looking up I am met with the hazel eyes of the delivery boy. ‘Hello’ I say feeling exposed as his eyes kept looking me up and down, maily at my outfit. A jumble of hand me downs, as well as I had taken the skirt up as it was too long for me but also as I like my feet to be free. I swing on the heels of my naked feet as the icy wind blows. My bodice being of a white three quarter length sleeved chemise, an exposed white corset and my baby blue and white striped skirt up to just below my knees. Half way down my calf.

‘Hello’ He said, bowing his head a little. Goodness he must think we are rich, as that is what the house shows but inside is a different story.

‘Is this all?’ I ask

‘Oh yes I’ll be going now, sorry madam.’ He said bowing his head again, this time taking off his wool cap. I nod in a mimic bow back at him. ‘Goodbye, safe travels. It seems slippy today, please be careful.’

I know it’s slippery as while I was looking out the window I saw my older brother Emmett. A stern man. Slip wobbled a little but sadly he didn’t fall over, he did look around frantically, his dark blonde hair messy and out of its usual plain do, to see if anyone saw his demise. Satisfied he straightened his dark grey woollen coat and his mulberry scarf.

‘Thank you!’

‘wait!’ I shout and he whips around.

‘ yes?’

‘Are you going to the Kinsman house?’

‘ uh’ he shuffled in his satchel pulling out a letter ‘ yes madam, is there something the matter?’

‘ oh no it’s alright, goodbye.’

I wave as I close the door. Running back up to my bedroom, slamming the door shut. Going back to my spot on the windowsill I carefully open the letter not to break the seal. Taking in a greedy breath of air I pull out the routh piece of parchment. Unfolding it in my hand. It reads, again in handwriting that I can barely make sense of

‘ Dear Miss Harriet Anastasia Blair Douglas, the last child and daughter of the Douglas household. We are pleased to welcome you to the Royal palace. You would be expected to arrive on the 30th day of the 11th month. Please note that no one is allowed to accompany you on your trip to the palace, otherwise you will be disqualified from the games. Bringing great dishonour to your family. On the note of travel to the palace, do not fret as you will have a house and carriage arrive at your house on the given date between 8 o’clock and 9 o’clock.This is a once in a lifetime opportunity we know you won’t miss your chance. Yours Sincerely, Mistress Pandora Wintringham.’

Wait the 30th of the 11th that’s November the 30th and today is the 25th of November. Not even a week to go.

Sloping down the stairs taking a right to the Drawing room. I am met with Emmett reading the newspaper as his wife Ellen sat on the worn floral print sofa doing her cross stitch. The fire a blase, I was in a trance, my hands twitching to put the unwanted invitation into its ashy demise. ‘Hattie are you alright?’ Ellen said, putting down her work on the table. Turning to pat the place next to her for me to sit down. making her neatly updo strawberry hair flutter and some strands falling elegantly onto her rouge cheeks. Huffing, I sat slouched. Seeing the envelope in my hand she squealed and took it off me, fanning it to Emmett who sat in a dark red brown leather armchair.

‘ Oh look Emmett! Look what Hattie has!’ Squeezing myself further down into the sofa, trying my best to disappear. Ellen’s lilac long sleeve satin dress with some silver accents, only showing the tips of her shoes when she is sat down.

‘Is it what I think it is?’ Ellen said to me, grabbing my hands in hers, in the motion dropping the letter. After she realised she wasn’t going to get my brother’s attention.

‘I am not sure? What do you think it is, dear Ellen?’ I ask, releasing my hands from her surprisingly strong gip, that you would never suspect from such a small thin woman.

Folding his newspaper up, Emmette looked over at me

‘Hattie, for all that’s right and good in this world, put some proper clothing on! And some shoes! You can’t go around like that. Think about what people will say and think!’

Picking up the dropped unwanted invitation, I drag my feet till I am back in my room safely on my windowsill. Playing with the letter. It teared, my eyes narrowed as my hands frantically move creating my own snow falling on my lap.

‘Knock! Knock!’

Pulling me out of my trance. Feeling a whole letter in my hand. I sigh, getting up to open my door. Revealing my favourite person Oliver, my older brother, just one year older than me. We used to share a room all the way up to his eighteenth birthday, where papa and mama thought it would be more appropriate for us not to share a room anymore. He stood with his honey gold curly hair, in a curtain- like hairstyle. One of Emmette’s old cotton shirt and some of papa’s trousers, which I had to take up as they were dusting the floor, and his own tweed waistcoat.

‘ hello Oliver’ I say walking over to my bed. Jumping on it laying down making the old thing moan with ache.

‘ Hello Hattie, anything interesting come in the mail today?’ He asks, sitting down near my head.

‘Ugh!’ I lifted my hand up to him, giving him the invitation.

‘What is it?’

‘An invitation.’ I reply bluntly.

‘That invitation?’

We knew it was coming since the stupid prince was born, just a couple months after me. The family always knew that I was going to have to take part in The Royal Games. I always hoped that the prince and the Royal family would push it back to when he is older, like when he is twenty or old. Giving me more time. Not sure if more time would help though I do know I would very much like to push this back as far as I can. But that’s not the tradition, the tradition is when the Royal heir comes of age. So when he becomes an adult maining his eighteenth birthday. They will hold The Royal Games in hopes of finding him a worthy bride and the kingdom a Queen. They like to do this and prompt it as he will choose for love, but Penelope, my older sister, believes they already know the people he can pick from and the rest of us who don’t fit the criteria will just simply be entertainment for them. I am not too bothered by it, I don’t have a passion to go. I guess it’s something to talk with papa and mama about.

‘Hattie, do you want to go?’ Oliver said as he slid the parchment back into the envelope.

I thought for a while ‘Um no.’ ‘Do you think I could get out of going?’

‘I hope so, this is something you will have to discuss with papa and mama.’ he said gently placing the envelope back into my hand.

The bell chimed throughout the house.

‘Oh time for dinner.’ Oliver said as he got up off my bed and hastily walked out of my room.

Closing the door I turn back around to face my untidy bedroom, as I take off my skirt and throw it over my vanity table’s chair. Opening my wardrobe I flip through all my clothing, holding dresses and two pieces with bodice and skirt. I pick out my light blue, almost light grey dress, with three quarter length puff sleeves, white lace collaring the soft scoop of a neckline with matching coloured bows to the dress on top of the white lace at the shoulder of the puff sleeves. Before putting the dress on I slip my feet into white stockings and put my old worn black boots on. Putting my hair all neatly up I make my way down stairs with the clicking of the heel on my boots echoing in the empty hallway.

‘Ah! Hattie, it’s so lovely for you to finally join us!’ Mama’s voice roared out, making the dining room go cold with silence. Bowing my head I rush to take my seat next to her, on her right as both mama and papa sit at each end of the head of the table. With all the men sat on my fathers right and the women on his left. I am sitting opposite Oliver who is on mama’s left and he is sat next to Peter, our eldest sister’s son. Peter is sat next to George Larissa’s, our eldest sister’s husband. With Emmett at the end on papa’s right. Next to me is Penelope. Going down the table next is Larissa so she is seated opposite her husband, next is Ellen who is seated opposite Emmett, him being her husband. Looking around the table I notice Larissa’s noticeable bump of a stomach trying to rip her dress wide open.