Step by step. Slowly and with fast strides, I did walk up the stairs towards the lady. She had already left the chair she was sitting on and was speaking to some women. As if seeing me, she excused herself and came as fast into my hearing, in which I spoke, "Hello, you asked for a chat, my lady, and here I am." With that, she nodded and led the way into the insides of a certain room in the stairs. It was not just a room, for at one corner, a shelf was full and carried some large books and old ones, as the cover page made one conclude. She sat in one chair, and I followed her actions. I wanted and yearned to know the course of her wants for our talks, and after clearing her throat, she stated, "How have you been? Tell me something about your childhood." My mind rewinded to my childhood phase, but some parts never seemed to come alive in my brain. They were there, but I was never sure where the places were, and so I started, "My childhood, I can't complain as much, for, father took me to school, he taught me everything... As I was continuing, she cut me off and stated, "I know all that, my dear boy. Tell me how you felt being under the Vikings house. How you felt around your classmates. Tell me that." My mind knew what she wanted. She wanted to know whether I was ever mistreated, bullied, or shunned by my classmates. I shouldn't seem weak in front of this lady, and so I continued, "They were pretty good." I was never good at lying. All my life, I searched for the greatest words to say when I wanted to lie but could not find any of them. After stating those words, I lacked other words, for my mind, has always been set to speak the real meaning of an event and its feeling. Lady Elizabeth watched me in curiosity and said, "You are lying boy. You're not a good liar, ain't you?" With that, I smiled a bit and then started. After all, I felt they were friends with the viscount, and the friendship with a parent I had never met meant a lot, so I stated, "My life was quite normal under the father's house. I was respected as the eldest son, and most of them treated me rightfully as the heir to father's property. In school, however, it was different. I was treated as a sinner. I was never accepted in games that my schoolmates played, and the school teachers never allowed me to participate in any leadership activity. Maybe that much has changed my all-sober view of life and myself. My brother was treated differently. Respectable duke's son, with whom would make the most feared student worship and fear. But for me, they never cared." Remembering all this, always made me question my roots. It made me want to cry, but I had hardened myself to the heartaches of people a long time ago. I had accepted, and so crying or hurting because someone regards me as a sin, made me feel it as perfectly okay. However, knowing I bore a sin, no one ever seemed to tell me where my pasts lie, to whom I owe my physique, the man's blood that stream through my veins, and the so-called person who made my mother sin instead of taking the stand of marrying her. Sometimes I felt that if I knew who my real father was, I would reprimand his actions, almost hitting him with my fierce blow filled with hate and consumed with anger. "A terrible Past indeed." She stated and continued, "My apologies; you had to pass through all that." I replied with a little smile, "You have nothing to apologize about. Of course, I was born for this; it's my destiny. I don't know if my course can be changed. Luckily, not many know my roots here in London. Everyone respects me. I may say." With that statement, she looked at me steadily. She had such sharp eyes that no astute, cunning animal would ever dare to lie or play tricks on her. "Some know. But positively, they assume. In the past, one like you was killed, one like you was sold out, and one like you was maybe made a servant. None survived, and most just killed themselves, my dear boy. I know you don't know much about me. But I know a lot more about you than you might think. Your mother, Lady Isla, God rest her soul, was the kindest woman and friend I ever had or knew. She was a good weaver, and she loved art. She had a melodious voice, and her beauties made all men in any ballroom dance wait for a chance to be embraced by one dance. She was the definition of perfection. She had been called the season's star, and her debutant by the Queen, and with that, it echoed that she, rightfully, deserved the best men in England and overseas. The king's son, now King Henry the Second, was quite perplexed with her. He danced with her, and as much, visited her in the Viscount's house, with all the blemishes of flowers, especially the ones that aroused, smelled, and acted viciously, showing the most genuinity and love any man would ever give. Lady Isla fell for the prince, and I would lie by stating that my brother never did. However, the King and Queen had other plans for their son, who was to be the heir to the throne after their deaths. They quickly betrothed the King to the now-queen, who was a princess in France. When news moved from around the palace to other parts of the world, Lady Isla was already expecting. Brother was confused, but each day he went to visit Lady Isla, until his wedding with the now queen. You have to know, son, that not once did the King leave the lady's life. You have so much hatred for him, I know. But what would you have done? Father, then, had already started falling sick, and his days were quite numbered. Brother needed work; he had to learn; he had a girl who was almost giving him an heir; and here was a princess, with whom after their fast marriage she was also a few weeks pregnant. He still calls for you in his drunken state. He continues to write to the viscount, inquiring about your well-being, but the problem is that her queen would never tolerate someone like you. You are a threat to the throne, I may say. One word, and you will be lying next to your mother, in that stone there in Lake Tigris. One word, and you will be shunned away from England, or taken to the other side of the city, to live a poverty life and a life full of worthless classes, sorry to say. I know you wonder about my reasons for telling you all this and explaining this to you. This was what your mother wanted; she wished for nothing but told you the truth when you were old enough. I did not expect her to die on that day, but despite the pain, I knew she had eloped from the biggest shame, if I may say so. I believe you have grasped as much of what I know about you as I have. So, my statement is that I can help you reign over England. You deserve to be the king. The king hates his sons, for the truth is that only one of them is his; the rest were born somewhere else. Either the king's acts or the queen's acts The marriage between the King and Queen, honestly, is not as clean as any human would admire and love. It is full of secrets, betrayal, and hatred. I never wished to tell you about the King and Queen, but you have to, for they, too, are your family. The princesses, however, I know not much about, but one of them belongs to the queen's brother but was raised in the palace as a princess. That's why I told you to take care, for no one knows who among the two is the king and who isn't. You might end up with the wounds and aches of heartbreak. I may say." And with that, she finished her talks. Word by word, statement by statement, I did remember. But the words of reigning made me chuckle. It was never my wish, if I may say so. However, hearing the story of the King and Queen made me question marriages again. Even in the Duke's house, the father sometimes would slam the door for the duchess, or I would hear them shout at each other quietly inside the study. On our first arrival, that was mostly the norm in the house. Father would sometimes sleep in the rest houses or would just stare at empty walls, as if in deep thought. If marriage was this tough, then I would rather rest my case. The princess thing did not quite click in my head as much. I can't stop thinking about her beauty and how much she made me nervous. But having her as my sister would make all the things I yearned for about her become nothing but flowing water. I knew her knowing this would change the situations, and she would maybe not be hurt or disappointed as much, which is what I hoped. I watch Lady Elizabeth stand from her chair and want to leave, but she firmly catches my shoulder, and I know she wants me to take her arm and walk her out towards the large living room, where people are still enjoying themselves. Steadily and quietly, like a son and his mother, we walked, and at the place she sat, on the upper floor, watching her guests in amusement, I helped her sit, and as fast as the gentleman I was taught to be, I brought her a drink of wine. And kissed her cheek as I left. For the first time, I felt someone really understood my deepest scars and wants. I went downstairs, and I decided to maybe mingle with other ladies, when the princess came right to me. "You seem quite occupied with Aunt Elizabeth's words; I was here waiting for you, your lord." With that, I just looked at her. My feelings for her are still strong, still remembering her acts and the words of the Lady of this house, but the girl was beautiful, so beautiful that being my sister would never be enough. I had already fallen for her, and I could already feel the tears that encompassed my eyes and somehow covered my visions. "Why? You don't quite hide your emotions as much." She stared again. I was the type to hide my emotions during any man-to-man conversation. But when it came to women, especially with the princess being the first woman in my life, I felt a certain difference in character and emotion. My eyes would hurt for her and cry for her in case she was heartbroken or anything. "It's nothing; I, I, I don't know. I am just overwhelmed that someone cares about me." I stated, searching for words. She looked at me and smiled after hearing my words. But deep inside, fear had already set in. I know this was just some talking about people getting to know each other, but for me, she had opened, or rather, created, a side of me that felt deep love and exposed my insecurities and fears. I feared being left alone, I feared fighting hard for the person I loved, and I feared always losing the people I loved when she stated, "Flatter yourself, my lord." I was not ready for flattering comments as of now. I was not ready for heart games or fears; I wanted her to just tell me that despite anything that happens, she would be here, dancing with me, even when the songs turn sour on me. Even when the birds stop chirping for me in the morning. Even when evenings become another day, it hurts as I wait for another. I just needed hope to lean on. Just hope, a little hope. The Vikings and his wife showed me parents love, but their actions seemed to tighten as I grew older. They started reprimanding me for talking to most girls. They started wanting to take me to faraway schools and universities after this trip to London, and sometimes I can't help but think that this was the reason all along. The reason behind his accepting my departure to London as fast The princess saw my absentmindedness and stated, "You seem quite lost in thoughts. Would you love us to sit somewhere and speak?" The princess's words made me smile beneath my breath. Once she spoke to me, I felt so much tenderness and warmth. I felt comfortable with her around; it just made me happy and my heart restless. But my mind had stopped functioning from the lady's words, or maybe the other sister is the real princess, for she is already betrothed. Maybe, I may say. I decided of course to take the lady's words in front of me, shoved my arm out for her to intertwine, and hand in hand we walked her to a bench near the room with the paints. "You love paint, of course." I stated and laughed at what I said. I was nervous at the moment. It took me all sorts of composure to stop myself from maybe touching the princess. I felt my heart race; I was standing, and the princess was there, elegantly watching my every move and action. I knew she was innocent and did not understand a lot about our kind. I looked at her and just decided to sit next to her in silence, and no one dared to speak. My hands were restlessly rubbing my thighs in slow motion, my heart raced, and I could feel blood rushing all through my body. I knew I needed to leave before I did something I would regret. Of course I wouldn't' touch her; I wouldn't want to defile her in any way, so I stood to watch the paints and at the corner of my eyes looked at her. She was also clearly lost in the paintings. If one saw us, they would surely think other things. But the best thing was that we were both watching the paint dry, and the paint was the main agenda in this.