The next morning, once Victoria had gotten a chance to unpack her belongings,
take off her travelling coat and wash off her face (leaving just a trace of the
gash on her cheek), she scooted over to the chest lying on her floor.
She had risked her life to have this chest back in her
possession, now it was time for her to finally see what was inside it.
There had to be a way to get this lock open. Victoria thought
hard for a second. Emory wouldn’t have given her this chest if she didn’t have
a way to open it. That’s when she remembered her locket.
She had worn this locket ever since she was a little girl. She
could never even remember taking it off. Emory must have given it to her.
She opened the locket and pushed it into the key slot on the
lock of the chest. She was thrilled when she heard the click of the lock
turning.
The lid swung open and Victoria gasped when she looked inside.
There were many beautiful gowns and accessories neatly lying inside. There were
gowns of many different sizes; for different ages, she assumed. A little
velvet-lined box contained a beautiful and intricate tiara fit for a queen.
Victoria noticed a folded piece of parchment in the box with
the tiara. Very carefully, she unfolded the parchment and read it.
“My dearest Victoria,
I hope that this letter finds you safe and sound wherever you
may have ended up. I want to share these gifts with you and your future heirs
in the hopes that you will not give up your true heritage. You are royalty of
the house of Stafford, Victoria, and had I not run away that night, you would
be the heir to the Britain throne.
It is up to you what you do with these items. But I do wish
with all of my heart that you will one day share them with my grandchildren.
Let our legacy live on, Victoria. Don’t ever forget who you are, and who loves
you.
You are always the most dear to my heart, my little Victoria.
I know you have struggled, but know that I always have and always will love you
very much. I have missed you while you’ve been gone, and can not wait for a day
when we will be together again.
Your adoring mother,
Emory Stafford”
Victoria could hardly read through her tears by the end of
this letter. Part of her was relieved that she managed to get this away from
Clyde, while the other side of her almost wished she hadn’t read it. She didn’t
know what to think. Or feel. She just stood there, looking at her name scripted
beautifully on the page.
Victoria picked up the most beautiful gown she could find and
took great care in putting it on.
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The
gown fit her perfectly, and looked stunning. With fresh tears welling up in her
eyes, Victoria pulled her hair up and slipped the tiara on.
For the first time, she saw it. Victoria saw herself in the
1600s, learning how to rule a country. Attending balls. Learning from her
mother all of the etiquette that a future queen would need to know.
Something inside of her snapped.
She threw the gown and tiara back into the chest and slammed it shut. She
couldn’t handle this. She ran dragged the chest back into the elevator and out into the yard.
"There," Victoria said, wiping the dirt off her hands from burying the chest. She couldn't bear it. It would have to stay hidden. That wasn't her life. It was her mother's.
It was her mother's.
Poor Victoria, missing her mom and loving her but still having her mother's past creeping up on her :(
ReplyDeleteIt's a tough life for poor Vic :(
ReplyDelete