The King

December 1st, 1818

My family is starving. We are left with no money, no food, no logs to keep the cold away.

My little sister, Mary Jane, has been taken over by the some sort of sickness and I'm not sure how much longer she has left.

I hope wherever my father is that he wakes up every morning with his new wife feeling nothing but shame for what he did to us.

"Darling." My mother's croaky voice asks from behind me. I turn away from the window of our small shack.

My mother looks far past her real years. She has never told us her age, but I do believe she is eight after four.

I am eighteen years old, since three days ago. There was no celebration like we used to.

My mother's bony white hand holds out an invitation.

"I have received this out our door." She says. I take it away from her, My father taught me how to read a long time ago. Most girls don't know how to read. My sisters don't.

I read the letter, through my shaking cold hands.

You have been cordially invited to King James the thirds ball, heald the second of December, one special lady will be chosen as his betrothed.

Please wear your best dresses and your best shoes. The King cannot wait to meet every one of you.

-King James

"It must be a mistake." I tell my mother, "The King has invited us to a ball."

"Really?" My mother asks, "What does it say?"

"He wants to meet a betrothed." I tell her. My mother's eyes turn hopeful and I hate to disappoint her.

"Mother, we are nothing but poor." I say, "A King will never fall in love with me. He will fall in love with a duchess or viscountess. Perhaps even a Princess."

"You are a darling girl!" My mother cries, "You do have a single chance with the King. My darling, you must try. Come, come."

My mother waves me over to her trunk that she always keeps under lock and key. I have never seen inside of it once.

I spare a glance at my little sister Mary, who lays on the bed, curled into her side.

My mother unlocks the trunk and inside are gowns, and jewelry with shoes. They look so new and fresh.

My mother pulls out a beautiful blue gown with diamond jewels on the bodice.

"You must wear this tomorrow." Mother says, "You must go, Ophelia. You must go!"

"No, Mother." I say, "There really is no hope for me."

"You can meet another man." Mother says, "He may not be the King, but he can be someone. You are old enough for marriage."

"What if I don't want to be married?" I ask her. There is no hope for me, there will be no man to fall in love with me.

"You are a strong young woman." My mother says, "But you must do this for your family. You must marry for us."

She looks to my little sister. My second sister, the middle daughter, Anna, is out now begging for spare change.

"I will brew some tea." I tell my mother, walking away from her. We have very few logs left to light. I grab the bucket of water, putting it in a pot with boiling water before walking away to grab some herbs.

"It will be waiting for you by tomorrow." My mother says, "Make me proud, darling."

I give her a small nod, "I will try, mother."

"No, you will not try. You will make me proud." My mother touches my cheek, "You will make us proud. You will do it for love, you will do it for faith. I have faith in you."

I nod again, "I will, mother. I will make you proud."

"Good." She says.

I go back to brewing Mary tea.

I huddle towards the fire, thinking of what I should do.

Can I really make a King fall in love with me?

And if I can make him fall in love with me, how can I do it? There are many lovely ladies that he could fall in love with.

I very much doubt that I will be one of them.

But I must try. I will try, for Mary, For Anne, and for my mother.

I will try for me.