章 3: The princess left on shore
The soft sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore filled the air as the carriage carrying infant Arissa drifted gently to a halt at the water's edge. The tide had carried her safely to the shore, where a woman stood admiring the horizon. As she inhaled the salty sea air, her attention was drawn to the strange sight of a lone carriage nestled in the sand.
Curiosity piqued, she made her way over, her footsteps light on the wet sand. Peering into the carriage, her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as she gazed down at the tiny sleeping baby, wrapped in delicate blankets. Arissa's chest rose and fell softly, soothed by the rhythmic sound of the ocean.
"Oh my god..." the woman whispered, her voice barely audible over the waves. "Who would leave a baby here?"
She crouched down, gently brushing the baby's soft cheek with her fingers. Arissa stirred but remained asleep, her tiny face peaceful as if unaware of the turmoil her life had already endured.
"Aww, you little pumpkin," the woman cooed, her tone gentle and sweet. She noticed a folded letter tucked into the side of the carriage. The paper was worn, as if it had been handled many times before, but the handwriting was clear and purposeful. She opened it and quickly scanned the words, her expression growing serious.
"Oh my…" she murmured as she read the message from Queen Miriam.
"How can someone be forced into such a decision?" She shook her head in disbelief, placing the letter carefully back into the carriage. "Poor thing. But I can't take care of you myself... let's find someone who can."
With a heavy heart, she lifted the carriage from the water's edge and carried it through the bustling streets of the city. She passed people going about their daily lives, unaware of the tragic story unfolding in her arms. The baby in her care was no ordinary child; she was royalty, abandoned by fate and circumstance.
The woman soon arrived at the edge of a wealthy neighborhood, where grand houses lined the street. One house in particular caught her eye—a large, stately home with an air of quiet dignity. She hesitated only for a moment before climbing the front steps. With a soft kiss on baby Arissa's forehead, she placed the carriage gently on the doorstep and rang the bell. Her heart heavy, she turned and disappeared into the distance, never looking back.
Moments passed in silence. Then, the sound of the door creaking open broke the stillness. A tall, thin man, his face etched with years of responsibility and worry, stepped into the doorway.
"Huh?" Matthew, the master of the house, muttered, his brow furrowing at the sight before him.
Without hesitation, he lifted the carriage into his home, setting it down on the coffee table in the center of the living room. As he inspected the unfamiliar bundle, he noticed the letter resting atop the blankets. His fingers hesitated over the envelope before he flipped it over, his eyes catching the inscription: "From Miriam to my dear child Arissa."
Matthew's face darkened. Without bothering to read the contents, he slammed the letter down on the table, calling out in a booming voice, "ROSIE! Come here this instant!"
His wife, Rosie, rushed down the stairs, her face a mask of concern. "What happened?" she asked breathlessly, her gaze following Matthew's to the carriage. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the sleeping infant.
"What the…? How did this happen?" Rosie exclaimed, her hands trembling as she stared at her husband, seeking answers.
"I don't know how this happened, but it's certainly not our problem," Matthew replied, his tone sharp.
Rosie's eyes softened as she looked at the baby, her heart already beginning to melt. "Well, this is wonderful! We finally have—"
"Wonderful?!" Matthew interrupted, his voice rising with anger. "Are you out of your mind?! We're drowning in debt, barely managing to care for our own child, and now this? And you think this is wonderful?"
"Please, Matthew, leave her to me," Rosie pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. "I'll take care of her. She can be of use to you, I promise. Just let me handle it."
Matthew scoffed, running a hand through his graying hair. "Use? Let's see about that," he muttered under his breath before storming off toward the stairs. The door to their bedroom slammed shut behind him, leaving Rosie alone with the infant.
"Does that man have any sympathy at all?" Rosie mumbled to herself, wiping away a tear. "A child is left at our doorstep, clearly abandoned, and yet he acts like it's just another burden."
She turned back to the coffee table, her eyes catching the edge of the letter Matthew had discarded. Carefully, she unfolded the delicate paper and began to read.
To whoever finds this,
Please take care of my daughter, Princess Arissa.
I cannot raise her myself, though it breaks my heart to say it.
I trust you will protect her and raise her well.
When she turns 18, please give her this letter and tell her to seek out my lady-in-waiting, Elisabeth of Croume.
She will know what to do.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
May you keep her safe and loved.
— Queen Miriam of the Celeste Kingdom.
Rosie's hands shook as she read the queen's plea. "The queen?" she gasped, her mind reeling. "This baby is the princess?"
Rosie stared down at the now-awake Arissa, her tiny eyes blinking sleepily. She cradled the baby in her arms, her heart swelling with a sense of duty she hadn't felt in years. "I will take care of you, my little princess," she whispered softly, her voice filled with resolve. "I swear it."
Knowing that Matthew would never understand, she carefully tucked the letter into her pocket, hiding it from him. If he knew Arissa's true identity, it would only cause more trouble. For now, Rosie would keep the truth to herself.
She sat down on the long sofa, holding baby Arissa close to her chest. Humming a gentle lullaby, she rocked the baby back and forth, her heart filled with a mixture of hope and fear. The night wore on, and as the moon rose high in the sky, Rosie continued to hum softly, her voice the only sound in the quiet house.
The future was uncertain, but for now, in the dim glow of the living room, Rosie promised to protect the child that fate had delivered into her care.
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