Bleeding Heart

Henfordshire
Royal Cromwell Stables

A small smile crept across Victoria’s face when she spotted Liam. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one was paying attention, then hurried over to him, excitement brewing within.

Sneaking up behind him, she placed her hands over his eyes, startling him. He jumped away and turned, pulling her hands off in the process.

They locked eyes—a silent standoff. She smiled, but he didn’t.

He bowed. “Your Majesty. Anything you need? I can fetch my father…”

“Liam, why are you acting so strangely? It’s me. I apologize for my absence; I got myself into a bit of trouble. Long story involving Jack and his ranch back in Chestnut Ridge. I’m quite sure I was what would normally be called grounded. Today is my first day leaving the palace grounds, and here I am,” she chirped.

“Good to hear. But if there’s nothing you need, I have a lot of chores.”

“Oh,” she could hardly hide her disappointment at his cold shoulder. “Perhaps we can meet up later. You could show me the farm you grew up on, like you promised. Now that I’ve been to Jack’s, the way he spoke about its history—the Kershaw family owning it for generations—it reminded me of how you talk about your childhood days. Well, the little you’ve shared…”

“No,” he simply said and walked away.

Taken aback, Victoria followed him. “What do you mean, no? You said you’d take me there one day. I didn’t intentionally stay away.”

“I don’t care where you were. I don’t wanna talk about my past. It’s all gone anyway! Your peers saw to that—ruined my family, my life, my past, my future—just because they could. You’re all the same.”

“What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I have nothing to do with any farms. I’ve never been to any except Jack and Izzy’s.”

“Your uncle ruined my family.”

“My… uncle? Surely you can’t mean Uncle Nick…he’s just an attorney, and not even here. He’s not licensed to practice here.”

“Who? No, I mean some royal. Your father’s brother.”

“Uncle Leopold? He died when I was young. I barely remember him. He was a bad apple, did heinous things to my family too, and…”

“Sure, blame the bad uncle. He’s dead, so he takes all the blame. Convenient. Always someone else’s fault. I am sure whatever he did, he had your family’s full support.”

“Why are you so hostile? I haven’t wronged you! I missed you. Didn’t you miss me too?”

“Miss you? I didn’t even notice you were gone. Not like we’re friends.”

He turned and walked off again, Victoria trailing after him.

“But we ARE friends, Liam.”

He stopped abruptly, glaring at her. “We’re NOT friends. You’re a princess, for Christ’s sake. We’re nothing alike.”

“We can still be friends… like I thought we were all along. I thought you were different. Special.”

“I am nothing special and I knew you weren’t different. You are just like all the other royals and nobles, airheads, pretentious and empty beneath with hearts of ice. I am polite because I have to be, that’s it. I do not want to be your friend. That’s laughable. You’re a part of a terribly outdated society that has no place in modern times, one that only costs us regular people money and as a thanks they historically ruin lives, while acting as if they were better than the rest of us. I don’t want to be friends with your kind any more than your kind wants to be friends with mine.”

Victoria stood there, wide-eyed, so he continued. “I don’t even like you all that much. Not at all, really. You’re just like all the others—fake, out of touch, only out for yourselves. And you’ll marry someone just like that too. And then you will be in some loveless marriage, ruining other people’s lives just because that is what people like you do.”

After a few seconds of shock, she turned and ran down the long corridor with stalls, nearly colliding with the horse trainer.

“Oh, there you are, Your Highness. I have Royal Symphony ready for you to—” The trainer’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty?! Princess?! Where are you off to? Is everything all right?! Mylady?!”

Cromwell Palace

Victoria’s tears flew off her face as she ran, breathless, until the palace came into view. She wiped her cheeks, trying to erase any trace of crying. Inhaling deeply, she forced a smile, then strolled toward the gates. The guards opened them, and she fought the urge to sprint to her room.

Inside, she locked the door and collapsed onto the floor, sobbing until every tear had run dry. Her heart felt wrenched from her chest.

Her gaze fell on her backpack. Unladylike, she crawled over to it, digging into a hidden pocket. She pulled out her diary, and several smaller pieces of paper rained out. One caught her eye—an elegant script repeating the same names:

• ‘Lady Victoria Rose Hawthorne’
• ‘Mrs. Hawthore’
• ‘Mrs. Victoria Rose Hawthorne, Princess of Henfordshire, wife to his honorable Lord Liam Hawthorne’

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the painful memories. Another piece of paper surfaced—a small card on thick stock:

In the middle, handwritten: “Messrs. … and Liam Hawthorne.”

“Her Royal Highness, honorable Victoria Rose Cromwell, Princess Royale of Henfordshire, cordially requests your presence at a ball honoring her 15th birthday.”

Victoria’s eagerness to see Liam after her grounding flooded back. She didn’t recall his father’s name. Asking anyone at the castle would raise questions, so she had planned to ask Liam instead.

Flipping through her diary, she found a long, thin item—a bracelet. Handmade and simple, its rough texture reminded her of Liam. She’d seen it in a shop window in Chestnut Ridge, the moment she had laid eyes on it she knew she had to have it to gift to Liam and asked for his name to be engraved in it.

As more tears fell, invisible hands seemed to close around her neck. She swallowed hard.

Then a knock on the door, followed by her mother’s voice:

“Vic, darling, are you all right? The stables sent a concerning message—you missed your riding lessons.”

“One moment, Mama!” Victoria scrambled to hide the evidence, unlocked the door, and let her mother in.

“It’s nothing, Mama. I forgot my allergy tablet and my eyes started swelling, as you can probably still see. I wasn’t fit to be out in public like this, so I quickly returned home. Apologies for worrying you.”

AG’s frowned as a concerned mother would. “I’ve had my share of itchy and swollen eyes from allergies too. Not pleasant. Poor baby!”

She pulled Victoria into a hug, and the embrace felt like medicine for the young girl’s bleeding heart.

“Oh, sweetheart, we need to mail out the invitations for your birthday. Have you finished the last few invites you wanted to work on?”

Victoria gulped, her fingers clenching the invitation for Liam and his father. Composure slipped through her grasp. Forcing another smile, she shook her head.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else. I thought there would be someone, but looking over the list you compiled, I found it quite complete. Apologies for the holdup. I simply forgot all about it.” Victoria lied, crumpling the carefully written invite in her hand and slipping it into her pocket.

“All right, I’ll have my assistant finalize it then. Can you believe my sweet baby is turning fifteen already? It feels like yesterday when I held you for the very first time. Oh, it was so scary. You arrived during terrible weather—your grandparents were visiting their daughter in Tartosa, the staff had all been released to be with their families, and neither midwife nor doctors could get through to us. It was just your daddy and me as I gave birth to you. Your daddy showed what he’s made of, being an excellent midwife. And after you were born, barely cleaned up, your brother burst into the room, sobbing because of a nightmare.”

“Yes, I always liked that story. William wanted to hold me and then he didn’t want to give me back. And even now, he watches over me like a protector.” Victoria smiled.

“And that makes me so happy, I have always been very close with my brother too, as you know, and it is wonderful that this tradition continues with my children. Well, I’ll get started on this party. Try to rest; allergy attacks are never fun. My poor, sweet angel.” AG kissed her oldest daughter’s forehead and left.

Victoria closed her eyes, pulling the crumpled invite from her pocket along with the bracelet she’d handpicked. His name, engraved in her handwriting, adorned the delicate piece. It had felt like the perfect gift for a boy like Liam—now it seemed like a cruel joke.

Turning to the fireplace, she switched it on, tossing the paper into the flames, followed by the one where she’d tried on his last name. The fire consumed them greedily, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I thought you were special. I thought you were my prince. But you don’t even want to be my friend,” she whispered.

As she cleaned herself up, mourning a puppy love that would never bloom, she felt the bracelet in her pocket. She pulled it out, turned it in her hands, and swallowed hard. Then, with resolve, she stepped into her ensuite bathroom, tossed it into the toilet bowl and flushed—three times, to ensure it was gone for good.

“Farewell my love … I guess I should have been more careful what I wished for. I couldn’t get enough of Mama’s sad love story with Jack. Here I am with the same all over again, only my Jack’s name was Liam. I suppose I have to wait for my own fearless knight, King Max to find me … for I don’t even know his name yet. Maybe, for me, there won’t be any knight in shining armor, to save me from the oppressive palace walls and take me out into the big, wide world for adventures and passion. Maybe Liam is right. I am just like all the others. I am about to be 15. Next year I’ll be old enough for my debutante balls, where I will meet other boring kids like me, and where I will probably meet my future husband, Prince Boring of House Dull, so I can go and live with him in his gilded cage.” Victoria murmured, her voice a wistful breeze. She sighed defeated and new, silent tears began to run down her cheeks.