I guess he realized that, and my reminder seemed to suppress some of his dictatorial attitude. (I’ll admit that at times that arrogance worried me. What if Timothy started feeling that I was supposed to keep to my role, whatever that was? What if he suddenly hushed me when I wanted to talk with others or required me to act in a manner he thought suitable? Did his past invade his beliefs about such things?)
Andrew had told me that Timothy at one point in his life had been declared a prince of the realm. “He was slated to marry the king’s daughter and had grown cocky and demanding, even conceited,” Andrew had revealed. “It was the only time we ever fought over anything. Timothy, or Prince Jeffry, as he was known then, had responded when I’d complained, that it was the only way to survive the brutality around us. He said that such behavior was required of him.
“I feared then that I’d lost my good friend, but shortly after that, Timothy wanted to bolt, I think it had become too much even for his swelling ego. We escaped from the kingdom and fled into another realm, one where we were completely unknown.”
Andrew’s eyes looked sad as he told me about it, as if that period in time had scarred him permanently. Had it scarred Timothy as well?
“Timothy probably left his betrothed in devastation,” I said, sighing over the thought. A mad streak of jealousy hit me. What had the princess been like? How could he have left her behind?
What an immensity of time these two had lived. Centuries of palaces, royalty, wars, barbarous conditions . . .
Andrew laughed at my comment about the princess Timothy had jilted.
“Not likely, Penelope. The princess was only eight years old and practically fainted every time Prince Jeffry came near her. But, that was the way it was done at that time. The women had no choice in their lives. I would bet that poor child was given to another man, one possibly even older than Prince Jeffy, well, at least the age Jeffry appeared to be. We both stopped aging in appearance before then.”
It had been a great insight into one of the many lives the two had lived. I wanted to hear more of these stories, but Andrew assured me that it was better if I didn’t.
“Times were different,” he explained. “Bloodier, emptier, and full of drink since there was little joy in life. Disease was prevalent. Poverty abundant. Life was cheap and over too soon.”