Freddy, 8 years old
“Lizzie!” Freddy’s whispered yell was hardly loud enough to be heard above the bubbling of the distant fountain. His feet crunched softly on the garden path as he wound his way through the flowers and towards his playmate’s favorite tree. If she were truly hidden away in the garden, as the footman had indicated, then she was likely occupied in her favorite pastime of birdwatching, and he had been scolded enough times for scaring the birds that he didn’t dare raise his voice any louder. “Lizzie, where are you?”
A rustling of leaves in the almond tree to his left drew his attention, giving him just enough warning not to scream as a blur of pink and gold dropped from the lowest branch. Lizzie grinned at him as she hung upside down like a monkey, her blonde braids swinging like ropes beneath her.
“Good morning, Freddy.”
Freddy laughed in delight and leaned to the side, twisting his head to mirror her position. “What are you doing?”
She put a finger to her lips. “There’s a thrush building a nest in the top branches. I didn’t know you had those here.”
“I believe they migrate in the winter.” Freddy puffed his chest out proudly at being able to display the knowledge he had meticulously searched out in the palace library.
“Ah, that explains it. Come and see.” Lizzie pulled herself back up and disappeared into the branches. Freddy followed, though at a much slower pace, and arranged himself on a perch opposite Lizzie. She stood, balancing on a narrow branch and hugging the trunk of the tree.
She tilted her head back and pointed. “Look up there.”
Freddy followed her finger to what appeared to be a messy ball of twigs. A small brown bird with a speckled chest flew back and forth, adding bits of wood and leaves to the ball. They watched together in silent fascination.
After a few minutes, Lizzie slowly lowered herself until she was seated. Freddy bit his tongue as she let go of the branch to play with the ends of her braid. Her legs swung back and forth, and she looked dangerously ready to topple over at any moment.
“Do you ever wish you could migrate?” Her eyes were focused on the hair that she twisted and untwisted around her finger.
“You mean, live somewhere else for a while?” Freddy’s brows drew together as he considered her question. “I suppose it might be fun, as long as Mother and Father could come with me.”
“I think I would want to go by myself.”
“But what about your family?”
Lizzie looked up, her big blue eyes shadowed with storm clouds. She dropped her hands to her lap and shrugged, her silence saying more than any answer. Freddy scooted along the branch until he was right up against the trunk. He reached for one of her hands.
“You can migrate here. Mother and Father are always happy when you come to visit.”
She brightened. “Do you think so?” As quickly as the sun had shone on her face, the shadow returned, and she shook her head at her own words. “But Father would never allow it. He says that I need to start thinking about how I can be valuable to Nedra. He says that as soon as we go home, I’m going to have lessons on how to be a proper lady.”
“Being a lady is good,” Freddy offered helpfully, thinking of his own graceful mother.
Lizzie grimaced. “Ladies don’t get to climb trees. Or play in the garden. They have to stay inside and learnboringthings like dancing and embroidery and how to properly curtsey and smile.”
“You already have a nice smile.”
“Not the right kind.” Lizzie kicked her feet harder and faster than before. “Father said this morning that I am ‘an unladylike disgrace.’ He wants me to smile like this.” She cleared her expression of all emotion and stretched her lips in the most unnerving, joyless smile he had ever seen.
Freddy’s young heart burned hot on her behalf. “I don’t think you’re a disgrace. And I like your smile the normal way.”
This earned him one of her genuine smiles, and he couldn’t help but return it. “Thank you, Prince Frederick,” she answered, putting on a prim and proper air. “I appreciate your compliment.”
Silence fell between them. “Do you really have to go tomorrow?” Freddy finally ventured.
“Yes.” Lizzie’s answer came out as a sigh. She leaned her head against the tree trunk.
“I can ask Mother if I can write you letters. I can spell nearly all the words by myself now.”
Lizzie brightened. “Really? Will you tell me about the birds in the garden and what you’re doing in the treehouse?”
“Of course.”
She beamed. “You’re my very best friend, Freddy.”
