Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 255: Second Lifetime, Freya. (1)

Chapter 255: Second Lifetime, Freya. (1)

Morning.

Seconaria.

**********

’Father, would barely blink if I never attend these lessons again.’

’However, Mother might actually kill me.’

’I am enough. I should be enough.’

’This is exhausting.’

’Maybe I should just fake up a seizure and leave right here and now.’

’What a waste of time.’

Freya, sat lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts, she found herself ensnared in the web of her governess’s droning lecture.

The words of said lesson floated around her like mist, their meaning lost in the haze of her daydreams and sighs.

What did she perceive to be the height of melancholy?

Was it the widow of three children, toiling away in hopes of sustaining her family after her husband’s departure?

Or perhaps it was the lingering gaze of a horse, confined within the four walls of a stable, longing for the freedom of the open fields.

"Your highness, do pay attention, for this is the most important part." Freya blinked, forcing a dainty smile to her lips when her governess, governess Lucia’s sharp voice cut through the fog of Freya’s reverie, drawing her back to the present.

She was sure Luxia had uttered those exact words at the beginning of the lesson, and again in the middle.

All parts seemed to be equally important, it seemed. Father would think otherwise.

While the appropriate way to wave might have been a riveting lesson for any other princess, Freya had long since stopped listening.

She nodded as her eyes remained on Luxia as she listened.

"And now you might assume that the clockwise direction is a multi-faceted approach to addressing the kingdom, but depending on the event, it’s advised to employ..." Luxia’s words faded into the background as Freya’s mind wandered once more.

A quick glance at the sun’s positioning from the windows of the grand study room they used told Freya the day had already passed to noon.

Somehow hand waving etiquette had lasted all morning.

Freya would sooner eat a whole book without drinking water than continue this lesson.

"Governess, while the lesson has surely been... enlightening, I’m afraid that all the tea has gone through me," Freya interjected, gesturing to her still-full cup.

"I must employ the ladies’ room post haste." Luxia’s nose practically stood at attention, her indignation palpable. Freya resisted an eyeroll.

"Your highness! How many times have I told you?! If there is a need to excuse yourself, it is imperative to employ the code words set in place! It is absolutely uncouth for a dignitary to—"

"What would be truly uncouth would be sullying myself right here, so do keep your scolding brief please," Freya interrupted Luxia with a retorted, her attendants struggling to conceal their amusement.

"Very well. Make haste, Your highness, lest what happened last time repeat itself," Luxia warned, her tone tinged with exasperation.

"Last time?" Freya quirked an eyebrow, recalling her impromptu dessert raid in the kitchen.

She’d abandoned her lessons to steal desserts before dinnertime and somehow someone’s hands had gotten cut, the soups has spilled and the chickens had escaped their coop.

There was talks of a chef erupting into flames but rumors had a nasty way of being exaggerated.

Only his scarf had been burned to a crisp. She hadn’t meant to watch, she had been clueless.

"Of course not. I dare not miss this invigorating lesson on..." she trailed off before recalling a word from the lesson. "Hand waving." she exaggerated, ignoring Lucia’s scandaous gaze.

As Freya made her escape from the suffocating confines of the lesson, her maid, Hannah, as always rushed into the room to inform the governess that Freya couldn’t make it as she had fallen and hit her head on the floor, so she had to be treated which sadly meant no lesson. The governess narrowed her eyes but she could take a break too, she thought, so she let princess lie her way to get a break, they always did this and she found it almost funny now, the princess needed to up her game, she thought.

Hannah rushed back to the room to find Freya fretted over her precarious perch by the open window.

The sunlight filtered through the translucent curtains, casting a golden glow over the scene as Freya hastily tied together the makeshift rope she had fashioned from her drapes. The fabric was smooth beneath her fingers, the knots pulled tight with practiced precision.

Hannah’s voice trembled with concern as she glanced down at the dizzying drop below. "Your highness, do reconsider! Isn’t this height too dangerous?" Her eyes flitted nervously between Freya and the ground far below, her worry evident in the furrow of her brow. Freya had escaped the castle before but this height was a new level, as he room kept getting suspended, the older she got.

Freya waved off Hannah’s concerns with a dismissive flick of her hand, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

"Nonsense. I am as safe as a chicken in Lent!" she claimed.

"That’s still not a reassuring comparison!" Hannah protested, her voice tinged with anxiety as she watched Freya charge preparing to leap from the window.

With a quick glance at the ground below, Freya muttered a half-hearted acknowledgment of the danger before gathering her courage and leaping into the unknown.

For a brief moment, she felt weightless, the wind rushing past her ears as she plummeted towards the ground below.

But as she reached the end of her makeshift rope, disaster struck as the rope tightened from the wrap around her fingers and she was free falling. She refused to scream of fear for being discovered.

The ominous sound of fabric ripping filled the air, causing Freya’s heart to lurch in her chest. Panic surged through her veins as she realized that her escape route was failing, the rope tearing apart beneath her weight.

With a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable impact.

But instead of crashing to the hard stone floors below, Freya found herself landing on something warm and soft, her fall broken by an unexpected cushion.

Blinking in surprise, she looked down to see a figure sprawled beneath her, his features obscured by the shadow of the window above.

"Something broke my fall!" she exclaimed in elation, relief flooding through her veins as she realized that she had narrowly avoided disaster once again.

"That would be someone," came the muffled reply from beneath her, a hint of amusement in the stranger’s voice.

Freya’s eyes snapped open in surprise, her gaze falling upon the figure who had come to her rescue.

It was a man, dressed in simple peasant clothing, a dark green tunic and brown slacks, that marked him as a commoner or perhaps one of the castle’s servants. Her eyes narrowed. Her initial sense of relief was quickly replaced by a pang of embarrassment as she realized the precarious position she had put herself in.

Quickly extricating herself from her savior’s embrace, Freya scrambled to her feet, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Had she fallen on a servent and blown her cover?

The mere thought sent a shiver down her spine, she noticed he was indeed wearing a servant uniform over the green tunic.

Taking in the boy’s disheveled appearance, Freya couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for putting him in such a position. He looked just about her age and he was quite handsome for a uniform boy, she noted, with rugged features and a strong jawline that spoke of strength and resilience. He met her gaze with a smile. He looked happy to see her.

A shame, she thought, that he was destined for a life of servitude when he could have been so much more. She frowned at that thought.

He cocked his head regarding her and her heart pounded relentlessly under his watchful gaze, he took a step close to her and tentatively she took two steps backwards ending up, back to wall, her breath caught when he lifted his hand towards her face, he trailed her cheek with his finger, following her features with his sky blue eyes before settling on her ocean-blue eyes, cupping her cheek.

’Gooseberry’ he whispered, his throat swallowing as he watched her with such sadness that she could only look away.

Who is he and why does he look so sad? she wondered. Her pillow saviour, her mind whispered and she snapped out of the trance he had drawn her into, pushed him away lightly and walked away.

"Bye, pillow! You are a life saver!" Freya exclaimed, her voice tinged with gratitude as she darted away from the scene of her impromptu escape, her heart pounding with exhilaration.

The wind whipped through her hair as she dashed through the corridors of the castle, her small laughter echoing off the stone walls.

But her moment of freedom was short-lived.

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