Three Weeks Later.
On this particular day, I wore plain clothes, no jewellery, some make-up. I had prepared myself, concentrated on a single thought. I would watch Leopold die. Was I being cruel if I wanted to make sure he took his last breaths?
Nicolas and I decided to discuss everything after Leopold's execution in Raingency. Also what had happened in the last three weeks after I read Annabeth's letter. My violet was only faint now, but I didn't want the press to see me like this. There were enough rumours in this society. A maid covered my injury, but the rings around my eyes were in too great a contrast, so I decided to wear sunglasses anyway. My hair was pinned up, very simple and elegant. It was about 8 o'clock, the little digital grandfather clock on my nightstand beeped. I had to go. I got up and checked my room again, I knew I wouldn't need anything. My maids asked no questions, I was very grateful to them. I met Nicolas in the great hall, we were silent. My hand began to tremble slightly, I tried to calm it. We hadn't seen each other since we had spent a night together. I didn't want to see him, I needed to be clear about certain things. Nicolas kept trying to get close to me, but I blocked him out. Today was the first time we saw each other in person, on the very day someone else died. What irony. Martin hadn't been thrilled with my decision either, nor with the prince's suggestion. Nicolas and I would go to the prison island in civilian clothes, without protection and escort. It was clear that Martin would not agree to this, personal protection was limited to a maximum of 4 people. I looked at Nicolas from the side, he was wearing jeans and a light yellow T-shirt. It was extraordinary to see him in civilian clothes for once. He cleared his throat slightly and crossed his arms behind his back: "Good to see you again." Because he also had sunglasses on, I couldn't tell if he meant what he said. I think he was angry with me. I bit my lip so I wouldn't say the wrong thing. I nervously ran my hand over my jacket sleeve. It was all arranged, at 8:30 sharp a black limousine would pull up and take us to a port. We would board and then change at Atlas Green for a passenger ship that would transport relatives of the inmates to the island. I would pretend to be one of Leopold's relatives, at least for the papers. Now everyone was at breakfast and Nicola's parents thought he was going on a date with me, everything except our destination was not a lie. I sighed deeply and played with the necklace Nicolas had given me, it gave me support. Something warm ran over my shoulder: "It's not too late, you can still back out." The prince's hand rested on me, his touch made me tingle. I took his hand and gently clasped it in mine: "No, I'll regret it if I don't." He gave me a defeated look, he had tried everything: "I will be with you if you need me." A man's voice broke our togetherness and I let go: "Your Majesty, the carriage is ready." "Thank you, Jonathan." The double doors opened and I saw the driveway of the palace for the first time in months. It was a strange feeling for me as I stepped over the threshold and sat in the carriage. The vehicle rolled over the driveway and when I saw houses again, they didn't just appear above the screen. Spellbound, I gazed at everything I didn't know yet, I absorbed it. It giggled next to me, I turned around and sank back into the seat. I always forget that you ladies cannot leave the castle. I punched the prince lightly in the side. He took my hand and put it back in my lap: "Calm down, it was just a joke." I pulled myself together and looked out of the window again. We remained silent for the rest of the journey. The car stopped and I heard soft seagull cries, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jolted from my thoughts. We were there. The door on my side was swung open and a man held out a hand to me, presumably the driver. I hesitated and finally got out on my own, I just didn't like this formal fuss. I stood nervously next to the prince and we both stared out to sea. "The ship is late, we'll have to wait," Nicolas said to me. He was also wearing his sunglasses now. I bit my lip: "Are we going to be late?" As bizarre as it sounded, I was going to a funeral that hadn't even taken place yet. "No, I called the prison and they are waiting for us. They're just dragging it out and the last meal will follow first," Nicolas said and went to the front and sat down on the bench by the keel. I joined him a few minutes later. The sea breeze fought with my hairstyle and loosened some strands. It smelled of seaweed, salt and sand. The mood was tense, I had somehow imagined it differently. At some point, my neighbour broke the silence: I still can't believe I let you do this. I was supposed to be reasonable. What does that say about me? Am I even fit to be king if I can't even refuse a lady?" I glanced briefly at him; he had curled his hand and lowered his head. I unobtrusively took his hand and squeezed it: "You're not a bad king Nicolas, it's just hard to compete with me stubborn goat." I recognised a small smile on his face. "True."
The ferry came and we boarded, the limo was long gone. There weren't that many people on it. I wanted to gneiss at the ceiling and the water, I had never been on a boat before and I must say I loved it at first sight. The sway and the view were wonderful. I had placed myself awkwardly and at the next jerk, I fell to the side and lost my balance. Just at the right moment, I was stopped from falling into the water, my necklace slipped from my neck and a sparkle disappeared into the depths of the ocean. It was gone, the only thing someone had once given me without conditions. You have to be more careful," a man's voice reprimanded me. I paid him no attention because I had just lost the chain, my protective anchor. I think he disappeared again, at least I heard him complaining. At that second I noticed that I had lost my sunglasses too. I quickly lowered my head and looked for an empty seat. I couldn't be recognised, otherwise, there would be reporters here faster than I would have liked.
Emptiness filled my insides the closer we got to the island. By now, the waves had become more irregular and angular. The weather matched my emotional state. The birds were screeching in the bay and sailing low, a sign that a storm was approaching. The water had turned murkier, a stiff breeze whipped against my face and slapped my ears. I held a hand in front of my chest, now that my talisman, my necklace, my protection had fallen into the black depths, I felt defenceless. Not even Martin's warming cardigan could calm me. My heartbeat faster when I was tapped on the shoulder and told that I could disembark now. With wakeful legs and numb steps, I picked my way down and stopped on the jetty. I glanced back and paused for a moment. A few people were making their way to the entrance of the prison. Belle?" a voice far away sought my attention. It brought me back to the present. Nicolas had reached out to me, even if I had avoided him, even if something intimate had happened between us, he would not leave me alone. Tentatively, I took his hand, a tingle running through me. He smiled tentatively, this time it was concerned. I could sense it, even though he hid his eyes under his glasses. I took another breath and we walked up the driveway.
"So you are relatives of Leopold Rauch?" the guard raised an eyebrow in disbelief and looked again at the visitors' registration list. We had been in the registration centre for about 10 minutes and were not allowed in. Our acting was very poor because they didn't believe a word we said. Listen, how many times do you want me to confirm that these are our names on the list? Admittedly, we looked very suspicious with sunglasses in a closed room, but what else could we do without drawing attention to ourselves. The guard, his name was Wyatt, at least according to his name tag, leaned back and looked at us both. He probably wouldn't let us in so easily. Since we weren't the only ones who wanted to get into the building, we turned away from the counter and sat down on a row of seats. I disliked this waiting room as much as Mr Wyatt. The prince leaned unobtrusively towards me and whispered in my ear: "I'm sorry, actually I thought it would work, if we don't get in the next half hour, I'll take you away from here. It's almost cruel to keep you here." I sighed deeply and looked for Martin, he had sat a little further away and was leafing through a meaningless magazine. "What if we used bribes," I suggested. After all, it always worked in the movies. Nicolas had to grin briefly: "Well, it might work in stories but not in reality. The judiciary is not as corrupt as it is always portrayed." Did he mean only the executive or his father as well? I was about to ask this question when the door hissed and another guard went to the counter, he opened the door and Wyatt pulled the window shut. Now we could no longer hear them. A few minutes later the door was opened again and the man disappeared from the room he had come from and the switch master called our names. Confused, we both looked at each other and then at Martin at the same time, he just nodded briefly. Now we were asked to come to the counter again only with more of an aftertone. Nicolas went forward. Excuse me, we didn't know who you were," he said quietly and gave Nicolas a passport. Please keep this with you at all times, a colleague is already waiting behind the door, he will give you further instructions. Have a pleasant stay, Your Majesty." Nicolas silently took the passport and nodded, then I followed him behind the door. When we were no longer near Wyatt, I whispered: "Did he mean it? We are in a prison." Nicolas reached for my hand, but I withdrew it. He accepted it without argument. We were in a corridor, it was dark, only a ceiling lamp flickered, adding a bitter note to the already tense atmosphere. As expected, we were greeted by a man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere: Good afternoon, before I can take you to the rooms, you must first go to the treatment room. It is all for your safety. The same applies to your bodyguards, of course. I had not noticed that they had followed us. We were led into a treatment room. Are we going to have our blood drawn now? The thought alone gave me the shivers and the smell of the disinfectant made me feel slightly nauseous. The doctor took his time, checked our vital signs and looked for a suitable vein to implant a tracking chip under our skin. It was all for protection, he said, because it often happened that inmates disappeared or visitors were found dead. I swallowed. "In case we lose you, it will be easier for us to find you again and don't worry, the chip is biodegradable. Was that statement supposed to reassure me? It caused bad feelings.