chapter 2
My eyes come open and I see I have turned my quill to glass. Cursing silently, I walk over to my locked closet, taking a key from over the doorway. I open it and set the quill on a shelf, among the other many things I have turned to glass. Pieces of hair, rattles from the nursery, circlets of silver, birds. Anything I was touching when the memory came back, or I just lost track of myself. I put it in this locked closet. The quill turned into red stained glass, shining like blood. I sigh and close the door, locking it tightly and carefully putting the key back in it’s place. I see out of the cover of my eye that the sun has just begun to rise. I sigh and turn to my dresser, picking out a dress to wear. After thinking through the activities I have planned for today, I choose a purple and cream dress of velveteen with white-gold trimmings. Even though I must live the sad and alone secret-full life of being my father’s daughter, I do enjoy the beautiful dresses. When I’m paying attention and not turning them to glass, that is. After managing to button it up all on my own, I take a the black cloth that covers my mirror off, and stare into in the mirror, where may face does not exist. Ever since I was little, I couldn’t se myself in the mirror. Thinking I was a freak, I would get up early in the morning and get myself dressed and brush my hair, so the maids wouldn’t know. U put a cloth over my vanity for so long until I could make sure no one saw me pass right in front of it. A knock comes at the door and I quickly let my hair down from it’s pins and brush it out. I can’t see myself there. I put it in a braid over my shoulder and call out.
“Enter.” My regal voice comes easier after so many years. The door opens and my sister, Willow, walks in.
“Good morning.” She says, glancing at the mirror. I smile back a little, getting up to put the cloth back on the mirror.
“Good day.” I fit the cover snuggly back on it, tying it in a know in the back. “What do you have planned for after your sewing lessons today?” Willow sighs and sits down on my bed.
“My first riding lesson is today.” I smile, remembering when I turned13 and had to start riding lessons.
“It is not hard until you have to learn side saddle.” I say, patting her on the hand and sitting down next to her. She tries for a smile and I try to remember innocent days. Sadly, I don’t know that I had any. “Don’t’ worry though. As long as you don’t get Master Smithe, you’ll be fine.” She laughs a little and I give her a small smile.
“Father says Master Smithe is an ‘Pompous man who knows much about his profession’.”I laugh, feeling giddy.
“That is just another way of saying he is a brat who is good at his job.” Willow’s face lights up in an firework of laughter.
“I know.” My smile grows sad and I take Willow’s hand.
“Look at you, all grown up. Soon you’ll be having your princess ceremony and be taking those vows to protect our kingdom.” Willow squeezes my hand and smiles.
“Soon you’ll be marrying the handsome King Saber and living in Scould with him.” I shake my head.
“Who knows whether or not that is true?” I say, hoping it is not. A knock comes at the door and Willow rushes up to answer it. It’s two guards, Samuel and an older man I recognize from my childhood days called MacAthur.
“The King wishes to speak with both of you.” I nod, quickly standing up and slipping my cream satin shoes on. Willow puts her hair over her shoulder and walks briskly out of her room, holding her head high. I smilie a little and try to follow her example.
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I only stumble the tiniest bit as I walk into the room, my smile not wavering at all as I go sit next to my father, taking a sip of water to cool my parched mouth.
“mane lumen.” My father says, and I nod.
“mane lumeen.” Willow says, taking a dainty bite of her jam and cheese toast. I mumble the greeting and serve myself a small scoop of strawberries and peaches. I eat it quietly, staring at the gas lamp in the middle of the table. My father smilies and has some small talk with Willow, which I tune out. My mind wanders to all the guards in the hall, Samuel among them. It’s silly to pretend that he or I could ever love each other, but it makes me forget for a moment. It makes me happy. I take a deep breath and set my hand on my father’s shoulder. He puts his hand over it and smiles at me. The smile is empty, I can tell. The smile never reaches his eyes.
“What did you want, Father?” His smile wavers a little.
“I just want to tell you something before it becomes palace rumors. You know how that is.” He laughs a little, but my face stays stony. He sighs and reachers across the table to take Willow’’s hand, squeezing both hers and mine. “I’ve been going to Wafe a lot, lately, and now I can tell you the reason.” He takes a deep breath, looking at me with his deep green eyes. “I am going to wed Princess Carlotta.” I gasp. Princess Carlotta is twenty seven, only ten years older than me, and no one likes her.
“Um…” I whisper. “Why?” How could he just forget mother like that? Like the two children he had with her were nothing? Father laughs.
“I should think it’s obvious. I love her.” The words seem to slip over his tongue like they are nothing.
“But…You loved mother, the Princess of Shoct. The woman you were married to. The one you grew to love slowly and wonderfully.” The words are loud and exactly what he used to tell me, before we both grew up. He looks hurt. He lets go of Willow’s hand, taking both of mine and staring at me squarely.
“I loved your mother like I have nothing else.” He says. “But she is gone, and I must create new roots to keep me on the ground.” There he goes with his principles again, acting like magic is not real. But I know it is. I am magic. I close my eyes for a moment, breathing the demons in and trying hard to breathe them out. Then I turn my attention back to him. I smile.
“I understand.” I lie. I lie like I never have. I kiss him gently on the cheek, getting up and walking out of the room, my heart beating fast and tears coming down my face.
How could he do that? When she died, he promised Willow and I would be the last ones he would ever love. I know there’s something behind it, because he would never. The father I love would never…
This isn’t the father you love. The voice says. I resist the urge to scream.
“I do love him.” I whisper, my voice harsh. “Everyone has problems. You’re mine.” The last two words accuse the vocie of so much it hurts.
No, dear piece of glass. You are my problem. I shake my head, the urge to scream rising.
“You can leave any time.” I feel a shiver run through me.
No. I keep you alive. You were born without a heart beat.
“You keep saying that, but I think I would kow if it were true.” I want to believe that I need her, and that if I didn’t, I would have cast her out by now.
I went into you, giving you this power, and helping you find who you are.
“No.” I whisper, a tear slipping out of the corner out of my eye. “This is not who I am.” I stand up, walking around the room, my head spinning in circles so fast my mind becomes glass, my heart bleeding through me.
Life is nothing, just a reminder that I’m not dead.
“Life is pain, and you’re trying to sell it to me.” I say to the voice, ending the conversation by walking out of the room, though I know that the voice follows me wherever I go.
