Words Once Spoken

8/14/2019 Words Once Spoken

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WordsOnce

Spoken


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WordsOnceSpoken

CarlyDrake

YAmeetshighfantasyinthislushseriesdebutaboutagirlwhoneverquitefitinandthereasonwhy...Evelynmightnotlovetheconfinesofhervillagelife,butshetakeshersmallfreedoms

whereshecangetthem.Buteverythingchangeswhenherparentsdecideitstimeforher

towed.Suddenlysheloseshertunicandbreeches,herbow,herhorse,andgainsrigid

gowns,restrictivemanners,andcarriagerides.

Thebestwaytoescapeisthroughherdreams,butastheybecomemoreandmorereal,

Evelynbeginstoworrythatsheislosinghergrasponreality.Itisonlywhenshemakestwo

newfriendsthatthetruthisrevealed:sheisdestinedforfar,farmorethanevenshecould

imagine.


4/12

AbouttheauthorCarlyDrakelovesbooks,butlovingthemisnotenoughshefindsshehastowritethem

too.Asareaderandasanauthor,shegravitatestowardperiodpiecesandsupernatural

works,storiesthatofferescapetoadifferenttimeandsetofrules.Mixamagicalworldwith

thedrama

of

young

adults

choosing

who

they

want

to

be,

often

conflicting

with

what

they

are,andyouhavearecipeforherfavouritebrandofmakebelieve.

Aformerfashiondesignstudent,aCoastGuardwife,andeternaldevoteeofactorsfrom

acrossthepond,CarlycurrentlyendurestheheatofTexaswithherhusband,twochildren,

andherfourleggedguardians.


5/12

Chapter1

EvelynEvelyn,thelightasairvoicewhispersonthebreeze.

My

shoulders

tense

and

burn

as

I

continue

holding

my

bow

at

the

ready.

Sure,

it

is

a

lovelyvoice,butIcannotseewhereitiscomingfromandIamtoofarfromcivilizationfor

anyonetoknowmyname.

Thevoicecontinuescalling,graduallygrowinglouder,untileventhebirdsandforest

animalscomeouttoseewhatisgoingon.Usuallythecreatureshidefromunknownthings

butforsomereasontheyarejustasdrawntothevoiceasIam.

Showyourself,Iwhisperasthevoiceechoesthroughthetrees.Ihadaskedthevoice

todothiswhenitappearedbeforewithoutgarneringanyresults.IhonestlydonotthinkI

willgetananswerthistime,either.

But,thenthere!Whatisthat?

Iseethewhisperofgossamerandaflashofdarkblueslipthroughthetrees.FinallyI

havesomethingandIracetowardsit,grippingmybowandarrow.

Thoughrunning,IamabletokeepmyeyesonthefleeingfabricasIautomaticallyjump

overrocksanddodgebranchesthatIknowalreadyarethere,mysoftleatherbootsmaking

nosound.SoonthedensetreesbegintothinoutandIamabletomakeoutmoreofwhatI

amchasing.Itisnotjustfabric,itisapersonawomanwearingadressmadeoutofa

thinsubstancethatglistenslikethestars.Eventhoughsheisfinallystandingstill,thefabric

continuestomove,swirlingaroundherlegs.TheblueIhadseenwasactuallyherhair,

tumblinginloosethickwavesdownherback,andthecolourissodarkitisalmostblack.

Sheisnotfacingme,butislookingoutovertheriver.Normallyatthistimeoftheyear

theriverisloudandfrantic,finallyfreeofwintersice,butrightnowitiscalmandpeaceful.

Ican

almost

hear

it

whispering

to

us,

but

cannot

make

out

the

words.

Ilook

at

the

woman.

Whoisshethateventheriveractsoutofreverence?

Evelyn,thewomanstartssingingagain.

Iattempttomove,todrawclosertoher,toseeherface.Ittakesmeamomentto

realisethatmybodyisnotrespondingtomycommands.Istandfrozenwithmymind

screamingatmybody,Move!Everymuscletensesagain,hearingthewarningand

wantingtoflee.

Itisalmosttime,Evelyn.Shedrawsoutmynameinthatsingsongvoiceofhers.

Whoareyouandwhatdoyouwant?NowthatIhavefinallyseenher,Iwantanswers.

Idonotknowwhosheis,butIkeepmyvoicefirm,notlettingherknowhowmuchher

presenceunsettles

me.

Itisalmosttime

Almosttimeforwhat?Despitemyefforts,impatiencepermeatesmyvoice.Ihave

neverbeengoodatplayingthemindgameswomenareaccustomedto,afactmyparents

havetriedtoremedywithlittlesuccess.

Itistime,hervoicedriftsawayasshedissolvesintomist.Youdonotknowareit

istimehome.

Sheslowlybeginstoturntowardsme,sotransparentIcannolongermakeouther

features.Sheraisesaslenderhandtobrushthehairfromherfaceandisgone.

Mydilutedscreamraspsinmythroatassomethingwarmandsoftcoversmyface.Soon

thewarmth

becomes

oppressive

and

Ifeel

the

earths

yearning

to

swallow

me

whole.

Iclose

myeyestightly.


6/12

Whatishappeningtome?

Thewarmthspreadsthroughmybody,thickeningandsuffocating.Itakeonelastdeep

breathasthegrounddisappearsfrombeneathmeandIdrop.

Iwakewithastart.MyentirebodyiscoldandIamgulpingairsohardmylungsfeelas

thoughtheyarepiercedwithice.Iamstilllyingundermycloak,althoughitissoaked

through.In

fact,

all

of

my

clothes

are

soaked

through;

even

the

grass

beneath

me

is

wet

and

hasbeguntosticktomybackside.

BrushingtheleavesoffmeIstand,shaking,andsurveymycampsite.Expectingmy

soakedbacksidetobetheresultofatypicalwetEnglishspringmorning,Iamsurprisedto

seethateverythingisdryandhowIleftit.TheonlydifferenceisMarrakeshisnottied

whereIhadlefther.Myheartimmediatelyjumpsinanxiousfear.Wherecouldshehave

gone?

InstantlyInotethecrunchofleavesbehindmeandsensehotbreathonmyneck.The

engravingonmydaggersridgesdigintomyskinasIgripittightly,turningslowlyaround.

Marra,Ibreathe.

Slidingthe

dagger

back

into

its

sheath,

Ilook

into

the

eyes

of

my

Arabian

mare.

She

has

alwayslookedmoreintelligentthananyanimalIhavemetandinhereyesnowisalookof

concernandanxiety.Shesoftlynuzzlesmyshoulderandburieshernoseinmyhair.She

takesafewdelicatesniffsand,seemingsatisfiedthatIamnothurt,letsoutasoftwhinny

andslowlypadsbacktothewildberriesshehasneatlycollectedintoapile.Iwatchher

lovinglyasthedawnglistensoffherwhitespeckledback.

WhatwouldIeverdowithoutyou,love?

Asfondmemoriesofourtimegrowinguptogetherflowidlyintomymind,Ibendtopick

upmybowandquiverandhearatwigsnapabouttenpacesaheadofme.Ifreeze.

Fromthecornerofmyeye,IlookatMarra.Herearsaretwitchinginrecognitionofthe

sound,but

she

never

lifts

her

head

from

her

breakfast.

Islowly

raise

myself

and

peer

around

thetrees.Iseeaflashofwhiteandthenitisgone.

Coulditbe?

Settingoffatasprint,thebirdsandforestcreaturesscatterinmywake,somechattering

madlyatbeingwokenupordisturbedattheirbreakfast.Silentlyslippingthroughthetrees,I

soonrealisethatthisisnotthesamefigurefrommydreams.Thiscreaturehashornsthe

colourofbuttercreamanddaintyhoovesthatarequitenimble.OccasionallyIlosesightof

thestag,butcontinuetotrackitnow,thisgame,Icanplay.

***

Havingchasedmypreyforhours,whenhefinallystops,Iknowthatthisismychance.

Crouchinglow

in

the

bushes,

Iwork

on

steadying

my

heart

and

breathing.

One,

two,

three

in;one,two,threeout.

Thestagmeanwhileisdrinkinghisfillofthecreek,alwaysonalert.Hisearsflickback

andforthnervouslyandeverynowandthenhepicksuphisnobleheadandscansthe

horizon.HeknowsIamhere.Cautiously,soundlessly,Isightmyarrowandaimforhisheart.

AllIneedisforhimtoturnoncemoreinmydirectionandIwillhaveaclearshot.IfIwait

anylonger,hewilldartoffintothewoodsagainandIwillhavetochasehimdown,whichis

somethingIcannotallow.HeisthebiggestbuckIhaveseeninmonthsandhecaneasily

feedseveralfamiliesinmytinyvillage.

Timetotakearisk.Pursingmylipstomimicthesongofamistlethrush,thegamblepays

off

as

the

stag

lifts

his

head

and

turns

slightly

in

my

direction.

It

is

all

I

need.

The

stags

eyes

wideninalarmasthearrowhits,fallingwithhisbodylandinghalfwayinthecreek.


7/12

Fortunatelythecreekislowandthecurrentisnotverystrong.Still,Iknowthatother

animalswillsoonbedrawntothebloodandIhavetogethimoutofhere.

Placingmyhandonthestag'sstillwarmneck,Icheckforapulse.Findingnone,Ibreak

thearrow'sshaft,wraphiminmynowdrycloak,andhaulhimacrossmyshoulders.

Trudgingmywaybacktocamp,IhavetoadmitIamprettyproudofmyself.Sure,myfather

hasplenty

of

hunters

that

he

sends

out

regularly,

but

none

of

them

have

ever

come

back

withaprizelikethis.

Arrivingbackatcamp,IfindMarrakeshlazilygrazing,hardlyapacefromwhereIleft

her.Shebarelypricksherearsandcontinuessnatchingtuftsofrichverdurewithoutundue

concernformyarrival.Sheknowsmysoundandneverletsitbotherwhateversheisdoing,

especiallyifberriesandthesweetmossoftheforestareinvolved.

Marra,mylove,youaregoingtogetfatifyoucontinuetocarryonso.

Sheliftsherheadtoeyemeandmyprizeandrespondswithalowwhinnythatmeans,I

carenot.

Asshereturnstohertreats,Isetaboutpackingupcamp.Normallyitdoesnottakelong

forme

to

do

so,

but

Ifind

myself

taking

my

time

and

relishing

every

task.

Who

knows

when

I

amgoingtobebackinthesewoodsagain?Ihaveonlybeenherethreedays,butthatisall

thetimeIamgoingtoget.MyeighteenthbirthdayisonlyafewweeksawayandIam

requiredtobepresentedatcourt.

Mygratitudethatmyfatherallowedmeonelasthuntingtrip,againstmymothers

wishes,isovershadowedbytheconditionthatIwillspendmoretimeathomelearninghow

tobealady.AstheonlychildofSirHemlock,Iamrequiredtomarrywellandputinmore

appearancesatcourt.Yeck,court.

Idislikebeingenclosedinfourwallswithcrowdsofpeople.Ihatethefeelofbodies

pressedtogetheraseveryonetriestogetaglimpseoftheroyalfamily.Ihatethesmellof

toomany

oils

assaulting

my

senses,

and

the

powders

the

women

use

always

made

me

sneeze.But,worstofallarethedresses;ughhh,Ishudderjusttothinkofthem.Theheavy

fabricsweighonmyshouldersandthethickskirtsalwaystripmeup,makingrunning

impossible.

Finally,Icannolongerreasonablydelay.SettlingthestagonMarrasback,webeginthe

journeyhome.Eventhoughweareabouttwohoursawayonfoot,Iseethetopsofthe

housesofmyvillagesoonerthanIwish,themanyfiresinthehearthsandstreets

regurgitatingsmokeasthevillagersattempttofightthecrispspringair.

ThegateloomsbeforemeandIpassbeneathit,idlyfingeringthestrangemarkingsin

thewoodandflickingthefreshgarlicbulbsdanglingfromtheposts.Shakingmyheadin

amusement,Iwave

merrily

at

old

lady

Cranton

where

she

sits

huddled

next

to

aboiling

pot

nearhershop.IknowthosegarlicbulbsandmarkingscomefromherandIlaughasmy

greetingprovokeshertoclutchherrobesaboutherskinnyframe.ShescreechesasIdraw

nearandthrowsasilverpowderthatdispersesintheairbeforeitreachesme.Marra

respondsbyrearingwildlyandthrashingabout,whiningherownreprimand.

Shush,Marra.Ipatherstrainingnecktocalmherdownandtopreventherfrom

snappingattheoldladyscoweringform.

Shecandousnoharmcrazyoldwitch,Imutterasmyfathersstablescomeinto

sight.

Notsurprisingly,myfatheristherediscussingtomorrowstripwithPhilip,thestable

master.

Or

maybe

having

a

heated

conversation

is

more

accurate.

I

have

never

seen

the

two


8/12

ofthemcrossateachothersothisisasurprise.Theirvoicesbecomehusheduponmy

arrival.

Father,Idipintoalowcurtsy,Philip,Inodinhisdirection.

Mylady,hereplies,givingmeaconcernedlook.Hegivesmyfatherastiffbow,My

lord,andslowlywalksaway.

Iwatch

his

retreating

figure

for

amoment

before

turning

to

my

father.

What

is

that

all

about?

Myfathersighsandoffersmeaquicksmilethatdoesnotquitereachhiseyes.Philipis

justworriedaboutthejourney.

Wehavemadethejourneymanytimesbefore,whatisheworriedabout?

Tisnothinghowwasyourtrip?Iseeyoumadequitethekill.Henodstowardsthe

buckthatisalreadybeingtakendowntothebutcherbytwoservants.

Yes.Excitementovermytripquicklydissipatesafterwitnessingtheargument.

Well,donotletRichardhearaboutit;youknowhecannotstandtobebestedbya

girl.

Richardis

my

fathers

head

hunter

and

usually

leads

the

other

men

on

hunting

trips

that

Ioncebeggedtobeallowedon.OnceIrealisedthathewasntgoingtoletagirlaccompany

them,Ibegantosetoutonmyown.EachtimeIcomeback,mykillisbigger.

Well,Iwouldnotwanttobruisehisego,nowwouldI?

Myfatherreturnsmysmirk.Yourmotheraskedmetohaveyouseehertheminuteyou

returned.Isuggestyoudosobeforesheoverexcitesherself.

Igroananduncharacteristicallyturnintoawhiningfiveyearold.DoIhaveto?

Yes,youdo,myfatherattemptstosoundstern,butInoticehislipstwitching.He

thinksmymothershystericsarehilarious.

CanIatleastfinishfeedingandgroomingMarra?Iplead.

Myfather

sighs

and

picks

atwig

out

of

my

hair.

I

am

sorry,

Evie,

but

Ihad

ahard

enoughtimeconvincingyourmothertoletyougoonthistrip.Letusnotaggravateher

anymore.Hewipesasmudgeonmycheekandlooksatmefondly.

Althoughhedoesnotsayanythingelse,hedoesnothaveto.Iknowheisproudofme

andIalsoknowthataftermypresentationatcourteverythingwillchange.Iquicklydipinto

acurtsyasIleavemyfatherspresence.MarraisbeingledintoherstallbyastableboyandI

dropaquickkissonhervelvetynoseandscratchtenderlybetweenherears.Turning

towardsthehouse,Iletoutabigbreathandworkoncountingagaininordertoslowmy

heartbeat.One,two,threein;one,two,threeout.IcontinuethisasImakemywayupthe

stonestepsofourmanorandintothekitchens.

Cookis

bellowing

instructions

to

her

many

minions

on

what

and

how

to

pack

for

tomorrowstrip.Sheonlysparesmeaquickglanceand,inbetweenshouts,informsmethat

mymotherislookingforme.Ughhh,andsoitbegins.Iremovemycloakandmudcaked

boots,handingeachtoaservantforcleaning.Iknowbetterthantotrackdirtthroughthe

house.Annabell,thehousekeeper,wouldhaveafit.

AsIreachthecorridorleadingfromthekitchenstotheentryway,Iamaccostedby

Becky,mymothershandmaiden,outofbreathwithsweatbeadingatherhairlineand

tricklingdownherrosycheeks.Thereyouare!Youpromisedyouwouldbehomethis

morninganditisnearlydinnertime!Yourmotherwasabouttodemandasearchpartybe

sentoutforyou!Sheroughlygrabsmyhandandbeginstodragmeupthestairs.

My

mother

knows

better

than

to

expect

me

home

at

a

certain

time.

Why

are

you

so

sweaty?


9/12

Beckypushesalimpblondecurloutofherfaceandcontinuestotug.Ihavebeenall

overthegroundslookingforyou,hopingyouwerehomeandjustmaybehiding.

Ifeignaninnocentlyshockedexpression.

Oh,donotlookatmelikethat!Iknowyou!shehuffs.

Alas,sheisnotfarfromthetruth.IwouldhavedefinitelyhiddenifIhadnotrunintomy

father.As

Becky

tugs

me

viciously

through

halls

and

up

the

stairs,

unwilling

victim

that

Iam,

shemumblesallthewhileabouthowhardsheworksandnooneappreciatesher.Irollmy

eyesandstubbornlydigmyheelsintothefloor,causinghertoyankharder.Shehasitgood

andsheknowsit.Shewasoriginallyhiredasmyhandmaiden,butsinceIrefusetohave

someonedressme,shehadbeenimmediatelypromotedtocareformymotherwhenone

ofhermaidensconvenientlybrokealegfallingdownthestairs.YetBeckycontinueswith

hermutteringsaswewalkthewindinghallwaysofmyhome,pointlesslypullingtwigsfrom

myhairandwipingsmudgesfrommyfacewithawetcloth.

Finally,wereachthedoubleoakdoorsthatleadtomymotherschambers.HereBecky

franticallyattemptstopinbacktheflyawaysinmyhairasIswatather.

Itmatters

not,

Isay,

you

know

it

will

never

be

good

enough.

Beckygrabsmyhand,cluckingatmynails.Wereallyshouldhavestoppedtowashyour

hands,lookatyournails!Theyarefilthy!

Becky,didyouhearwhatIsaid?

Hmmm?Sheisturningmyhandsoverandtryingtowipethemwiththecloth.Isnatch

themaway.

ItdoesnotmatterhowIlook,shewillinevitablyfindsomethingwrong,andyouknow

it.

Yes,well,nosenseinnottrying,andwiththatshesoftlyknocksonthedoor.

Angie,mymothersotherhandmaiden,answers.Hereyeswidenatmyappearanceand

hermouth

opens

and

closes

afew

times

like

afish

out

of

water.

Becky

clears

her

throat

and

shakesherheadintheuniversalsignof"Iwillfillyouinlater",asAngiepullsthedooropen

wider.ShecurtsiesasIentertheroomwithBeckytrailingbehindme.Beckyalsodropsinto

acurtsyatthesightofmymother,whohasherrigidbacktousandisstaringoutthe

window.Twomoreservantsarebusypackingherdressesandtoiletriesinatrunk.Theystop

foramomenttoglanceatmeandexchangewhispersonmyappearance.Apparentlymy

motherhearswhattheyaresayingbecauseherbackstiffensalittlemore.

Iwishtospeakwithmydaughter.

Despitetheroaringfireinthegrate,thetemperatureintheroomseemstodropafew

degreesfromthechillinhervoice,andIamnottheonlyonewhonotices.Everyonequickly

leaves,dropping

curtsies

and

My

lady,

on

the

way

out.

Becky

lightly

squeezes

my

hand

as

sheexits.Iammomentarilycomfortedbythegesture,butoncethedoorclicksshutIbegin

tofeelasthoughthestonewallsareclosinginonme.

Sweatbreaksoutonmybrowandmyheartspeedsupagain,racinglikeafrightened

animal.ThesuffocatingheatfromthefirecoversmelikeatoowarmblanketandIknow

thattheonlycoolplaceintheroomisbythewindows.Myonlydesireinthatmomentisto

runtothem,throwthemopen,andsuckinasmuchfreshairasmylungscanhandle.

Unfortunately,thatactionmeansstandingnearmymother.Theangrytiltingofherslight

shouldersmakesmereconsiderthatidea.

MymotherandIcouldneverconnect;maybeitisbecauseIamnothinglikeher.Sheis

tiny

and

waiflike,

whereas

I

am

tall

and

curvy.

I

enjoy

being

outside

as

much

as

possible

and

despisetheladylikefashionsandmannerismssheisconstantlyattemptingtomouldme


10/12

into.SoIstand,inthecenteroftheroom,waitingforhertospeak.Whateversheisgoingto

sayIwanthertohurryup,butknowingmydislikeforenclosedspacessheseemstobe

takinghertime.Iwait,mypatiencewearingthinasiceasIlistentothecracklingofthe

blazingfire,itsheatcausingmyskintopricklepainfully.Afterrelishingmydiscomfort,she

finallyletsoutasmallbutdramaticsigh,brieflyfoggingupthewindowinfrontofher.

Youwere

supposed

to

be

back

this

morning.

Yes,mother.

Anothersmallsigh.

Ineededyoutobehomesowecoulddoonelastfittingofyourdresses.Herheadtilts

slightlyinmydirection.Youdorealisetheimportanceofthistrip,doyounot?

Yes,mother.Ikeepmyvoiceeven.ThelessemotionIshow,thebetter.

Anothersigh,smallerthanthelast.

Good.ThePrincessturnedeighteenlastmonthandwillbechoosinghernewladys

maids.Ifyoumakeagoodimpression,shejustmightpickyou.

Ilookather,blinkingindumbfoundedastonishment.Me?Why?IthoughtIwasjust

goingthere

to

be

presented

at

court

so

you

could

traipse

me

around

in

front

of

the

sons

of

gentrylikesomeprizedmarereadyforbreeding!

Youreallydoneedtocontrolthattemper.Thistimesheturnsenoughtoglareatme

beforereturningtothewindow.Beingaroyalladyinwaitingisanhonourandthelonger

youareinthepalace,themorechanceyouhaveofmakingconnections.Now,yourbath

shouldbereadyforyouinyourroom.WewillbeleavingearlyandIsuggestyougetsome

rest.

Rightoncue,thedooropensandAngieenters.Sensingthedraftfromtheopendoor,I

boltfromtheroomlikeaskittishcolt.Asmytoebrushesthethreshold,Angieanglesher

bodyslightlyasshegripsmyarm,steadyingmeandforcingmetoslowdown.Thesternlook

inher

gray

eyes

reminds

me

of

my

manners.

Goodnight,mother,Imakesuretoreturnhericytone.

AsIleavetheroom,Ihearthebreathescapingmymotherslipsinyetanothersigh.

Oncethedoorsclosebehindme,Imanagetogetaboutaquarterofthewaydownthe

corridorbeforeIbreakoutinasprinttowardsmyroom.Iamnotallowedtoruninthe

housebecauseIusuallysendthetapestriesandrugsflying,butcorridorsaretheworst.I

cannotbearthefeelingofsuffocationthedampwallsgiveme.

Beckyisalreadyinmyroom,standingnexttoalargeroundwoodenbarrelfilledwith

lightlysteamingwater,droppinginlavenderstemsandrosepetals.Shehasawholearrayof

spongesandscrubbingutensilslaidoutonachairnexttothetub.

Thisis

not

going

to

be

pleasant,

is

it?

Iask,

slowly

peeling

off

my

jacket,

tunic

and

breeches.

Thatdependsonyou.Sheeyesmewarily.

Islipintothetubandsubmersemyselfinthewarmwaterthatisgiddilyconsumingmy

tiredbody.Hmmm,justhowIlikeit.

Ipokemyheadoutofthewaterandeyealavenderstemfloatingbyme.Pluckingit

gingerlyoutofitssailingadventure,Itossitintomymouth.

Beckygroans.Yeck,canyounotwaituntilafteryourbathtoeat?

IdonotseewhyIshould,whatiswrongwitheatingandbathingatthesametime?I

askincredulously.Archingamockingbrow,Ilookupatherconfusedface.Youarejust

uncomfortable

that

I

do

not

eat

like

everyone

else.


11/12

Beckysighsandbeginstuggingonmyhair,attemptingtoloosentheplaitsofmybraids

towashoutthetwigsandsoil.No,well,yes,Ijusthavenevermetanyonelikeyou,tisall.

Discomfortandfearcomeoffherinwaves.Itissostrongitalmostmakesmelosemy

appetite.Iknowwhatalloftheotherservantsandvillagerssayaboutme,goadedonbyold

ladyCrantonsravings,butnoonehaseverdirectlyvoicedtheirdiscomfortwithmeandmy

unusualhabits.

Inanefforttogetpasttheawkwardmoment,IlookroundmyroomwhileBeckytugs,

yanksandscrubsatmyskin.Thefirelightthrowsmenacingshadowsthroughouttheroom,

andeventhoughitisthesameoneIwasbornin,ithaschangeddrasticallyoverthelastfew

yearsanditfeelsunfamiliartome.

Firstistheghastlybed,anelaborateoakmonstrositywithvelvetdrapestoencloseit

andplushdowncomfortersandpillows.Idonotcarefortraditionalbedsand,theminuteI

couldwalk,myparentsfoundthatoutthehardway.Asachild,Iwouldcrawloutofbedin

themiddleofthenight,creeppastmynannysnoozinginherchairbythefireandsteal

downtothegardens.There,undertheappletree,Iwouldmakeabedofleaves,branches

andsod.

The

gardener

or

one

of

the

servants

would

inevitably

find

me

and

my

parents

wouldshovetincturesdownmythroatwhilesmotheringmewithblankets,convincedIhad

caughtmydeathofcold.Thiswentonforaboutamonthuntiltheyrealisedthattheonly

wayIwouldsleepinsidewouldbeiftheytransformedmyroomintoawoodedwonderland.

Theygotridofthebed,madeapalletofmossandleavesonthefloor,anddrapedvinesand

fernsinmyroom.

Thetwoclosedwindowsinmyroom,coveredinbrocadeddrapes,fillmewithdismay.

Sighing,IrememberhowonceIwasoldenoughtopushopendoorsandwindows,they

wouldwakeuptofindthemallopen.TheysoonrealisedthatIdidnotcareforenclosed

spaceseither,sodoorsandwindowsalwayshadtoremainopeninwhateverroomIwasin.

Sincethis

became

aproblem

during

inclement

weather,

Ioften

spent

the

majority

of

my

timeoutside,inthewoods,togivetherestofourhomesresidentstheopportunitytostay

warmanddry.Ididnotmindit,though.Thewoodshavealwaysfeltlikemytruehome.

Aboutthreeyearsagothisallhadtochange,accordingtomymother.Shewantedto

preparemeformyupcomingcourtappearance,therebyinsistingthatIlearntosleepina

bed,dressmorelikealadyandspendmoretimewithinclosedquarters.Yetnotevenshe

couldsucceedinmakingmeeatanythingfromananimal,foritmakesmephysicallysick.So

far,sheseemstobecontentinignoringmyeccentricdietafterseveralfutilebattles,

dubbingmydigestionasdelicate.Needlesstosay,thepastthreeyearshavebeentorture.

Myfairskinscrubbedtoarosypink,Istepoutofthetubandintothewaitingcloth

Beckyholds

up

for

me.

Glancing

around

my

bare

room

towards

my

bed,

Isearch

the

far

corner,hopingthatIwouldseemyfamiliarpalletofmoss.Seeingonlyacleanemptyspace

whereitoncewas,IturntowardsBecky,wrappingtheclothtightlyaroundme.Sheis

holdingmynightdressouttomenow.

Becky,Iwhispersoftly,doyouthinkmaybejustfortonight?

Beckyglancesatmyeyesandswiftlylooksaway,staringatmyleftshoulder.Iamsorry,

miss,butyourmotherhasexpresslyforbiddenit.Shemakescertainhervoiceisloud

enoughtocarrydownthehall.

However,shebreathesinmyear,youwillfindsomemossandleavesstuffedinyour

pillow.Hereyesshinewithexcitementasshegivesmeaconspiratorialwink.

I

know

that

look;

any

servant

would

be

more

than

willing

to

break

a

rule

under

their

mastersnose.Especiallyiftheyknewtheycouldgetawaywithit.


12/12

Thankyou,Imouthassheslidesthechemiseovermyhead.

Goodnight,miss.Shebobsacurtsy,gathershersuppliesandthedirtylinen,and

leaves.

Walkingovertothesideofmybedwhereaplateofgreensandajugofwaterhavebeen

leftonasmalltable,Idevourbothinstantlyandcrashintobed,buryingmynoseinthe

pillow.Ibask

in

the

scent

of

the

forest

for

afew

minutes

before

rolling

over

onto

my

back.

Thefireinmyroomhasalmostdiedout,butthereisstilljustenoughlightformeto

makeoutsomethinghanginginbetweenthebedpostsandcurtains.Whenmyeyesadjust

tothedark,Irealisewhatitisandinhaledeeplyofthesweetscent.IknewIhadsmelledthe

honeysuckleuponenteringtheroom,buthadthoughtitwasjustmyyearningforthe

outsideplayingtricksonme.Ismileandletmyeyelidsflutterclose.IdonotknowifBecky

hadorchestratedthataswell,butIamthankful.

Suchkindnessismostlikelynotgoingtobefoundinthepalace.

Words Once Spoken

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