| Ella Of Cinders Written By Sorka Robinton |
| Once upon a time... There was a Duke, a kind and generous man, who lived in the capital city of Arelde, the famed city that held the great King of the lands. He was the oldest brother of a long line of Dukes, each virtuous and moral nobles, and their legacy was evident in the well-to-do surroundings of the city and villages. Gentle Roane, for he was a second son, was brought up to be a physician, and trained as such for many years by the most renowned teachers and professors. A promising protogee, the boy grew to a man, and the man into the finest doctor seen for many years. And not only was he pleased with his accomplishments, he was also content and fulfilled by his occupation. This kind young man married, and produced a daughter in his second year of marriage. But, his life was not to be the fairy tale it began as, for his wife died in childbirth despite his frantic endeavors. He grieved at the loss of his soul mate, and turned to his child as a solace. Selene was a bright child, with her mother's pale skin and shining gold hair, and proved to be bouncy and attentive from the beginning. As she grew older, the lonely man took her with him on his medical visits, and her ample mind soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. "Father?" he would hear late at night, when she ought to have been in bed for an hour, "What is this?" Her tiny finger, positioned firmly on a multi-syllable word, would be as inquiring as her innocently long-lashed emerald eyes. And he would laugh, drawing her onto his lap, and explain in great detail the procedure and its outcomes, the symptoms and the diagnosis. So, the girl was a regular sight in Arelde, always trotting on her father's heels as he went from his office to home to yet another home. By the young age of thirteen, the girl had grown not only in size but in her education, for she was knowledgeable in medicine and experience. People began to ask her for advice in the streets, when she was walking alone to the market or the variety of small shops, needing advice for a swollen left leg or a throbbing headache. "For you' as smart-like as yourn father is," they gave explaination, proud of their city's fine young girl. When she was fourteen, the first Duke was suddenly dead with a heart attack, because of his rich eating habits but also the death of his fragile wife. Grieving for his brother, Roane found himself quickly immersed in the city's politics, as the new Duke. Feeling his obligation towards the city, he released his career and became absorbed in his duties. Politics not only ruined Roane's medical profession, but also his love. After a half-year of being prodded and poked at by society, he grudgingly took a wife, a minor noblewoman who had twin daughters from her other marriage, a year older than his Selene. In his kind nature, he hoped they would prove good company for his growing daughter. "Selene," he would say, in his mild voice, "You are growing so old now, and even though you are my little girl, you need a woman to talk to, because things are going to change." He patted her gold hair gently as she burst into tears. "Sweet, I will always be there, don't cry now," he reminded her with a smile. But he did leave her, only a year of marriage to his new wife. Quietly, in his sleep, Roane passed on in his fourtieth year. Selene was left with her two stepsisters and her step-mother Pertia, who was not as kind as she pretended to be. Morphing the small, pretty castle into a bustling court, Pertia quickly transformed Selene into a servant. "You, there," she commanded. "This is my home, and you have no right." Crushed by her father's death, the poor fifteen year old complied fearfully. In the tragedy, even the townspeople forgot about their quiet friend, and did not even miss the pretty girl going to and fro from the market place weekly. This was hard to imagine, since Selene, with her clear complexion, shining hair, and gentle emerald eyes had acquired many admirerers. But, she was forgotton, and her slender form was absorbed into the masses ordinary servant girls. Elesia and Elenia, the twin daughters of Pertia, were Selene's new assigned mistresses. Elenia, the younger twin, was a jealous creature who hated Selene for her beauty, though both sisters were pretty also, with shining auburn hair and clear blue eyes. However, the two lacked the inner radience of Selene, and the haughty expression of the younger, crueler daughter was apalling to even the most desperate of suitor. Forced by her jealous step-mother, Selene's ankle-length golden hair was constantly bound in an old kerchief. Elesia, the elder of the twins, had been the only obstacle that had prevented the entire thing from being shorn off, for she was kind but easily dominated by her cruel mother and sister. But rags and bound-hair could not stifle the beauty from Selene's face and form, for she was not only graced with harmonious features but with an innate kindness that she showed to everyone. The step-mother, despite her efforts, could not even prevail in this subject. Instead, she simply piled more and more chores and duties on her young step-daughter, now not called by her true noble name but an alias...Ella-in-the-Cinders. Thankfully, she thrived enough in this environment (with the help of Elesia), for fate was approaching slowly but steadily. ~~~~~~~~~~ Carriages clattered over the polished stones in front of the Manor, scattering dirt and servants in its wake. "Ella!" Elenia shrieked, "Fetch me my scarf and veil, you worthless fool." A figure, clothed in simple garb, hurried back with the desired garmets. "Why were you so slow?" the girl scolded, her eyes scornful on the face, shadowed by the headcloth. "Ella-in-the-cinders," she added, a malicious twinkle in her cold blue eyes. Tossing her head, the motion twirling her pretty brown hair, she was off and riding to her enjoyment with her latest suitor, soon to be frightened away. The servant was left standing in the dust, her fists clenched beneath her long brown sleeves. ~~~~~~~~~~ "Hurry!" The shouts of the servants rang out over the castle, conveying frantic fear. "Find the midwife!" "What?" Selene exclaimed, rising from where she fed the dogs the evening's scraps. Her mind sparkled with interest and curiousity, and she stood determined to somehow watch the scene. The housekeeper burst into the kitchen. "Hot water! Cloths! You stupid women, hurry! The Lady is having her first baby now!" The kitchen women wailed, shocked, but complied as Selene began to gather the materials and herbs needed for the job, almost subconciously preforming her previous occupation as apprentice physician. "Let's go," she said firmly, gesturing to the women behind her, similarily burdened with sheets, water, and liquids. A party consisting of an older man and woman, the pregnant girl and husband, and a young man were hurriedly trooping after Pertia. Inside the closest bedroom, a young sobbing woman was being toted gently onto the bed, far gone in her contractions. Blood soaked her clothing, making the fine blue brocade a muddy, forboding purple-scarlet. "My god!" Pertia screamed. "Cannot we find the midwife?" She wrung her hands, for once her aging features not composed haughtily. The Lady wailed again, spasms torturing her gravid frame. The housekeeper stepped forward. "Let me try!" she said, her rough voice unsure. "I once birthed my sister's child, the dear sweet thing." A man in the corner nodded leave, and the housekeeper soothed the Lady and fed her warm honeyed wine, like any stupid charlatan would do. She, after all, had never had dear Roane to tell her "never give an expecting woman alcoholic beverages." ~~~~~~~~~~~ Pertia pushed her aside after a half-hour. "You, out!" she screamed, her face mottling red with both frustration and humiliation. Turning to the man in the corner, she bowed gravely and murmered, "There is nothing we may do now, sir." She retreated several feet away from the well-dressed man, next to the fearful Elesia. Selene stared first at the young woman, than her stepmother, then back to the woman. Could she...? Evie, the milkmaid, had her baby in such a violent fashion as this, and she was able to help her give birth safely, and both were happy and healthy now. Gathering courage, she stepped forward to the immediate disgust of Pertia, who gave her an ominous glare. "I can help!" she whispered into Pertia's ear, her voice firm. Her stepmother, turning to her, hissed "Servant, you stay out of affairs you don't understand!" Pushing her firmly back into the wall, the stepmother glowered condescendingly at her. "Mother!" Elesia cried out as Selene hit the wall with a dull thunk. "Do you want her to die?" Selene said quietly, feeling desperation knawing at her throat. Who cared what punishment she would suffer after helping out? Too much blood, already! If any more time was wasted... "I think," the young man drawled, "that we should let this goodwife preform her duties." To Selene's surprise, Pertia gave in deferentially to this boy not much older than herself. His face, though concerned, seemed to find some humor in overriding the authority of this arrogant noblewoman. Selene took a deep breath, then curtsied to the family before shifting into her imitation of Roane. Elesia, hiding behind the doorway, slipped a clean white apron into her stepsister's hand before running away fearfully. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ An hour later, the squirming baby was delivered with some difficulty, breech birth, and the Lady's narrow hips also did not help to hasten the situation. Selene, handing the bloody child to the housewife, breathed a sigh of relief to see the healthy boy-child alive and well. "A boy?" the Lady gasped, her hair soaked with sweat. Her eyes were already clearing from its ordeal, a good sign. Selene smiled, imperceptibly beneath her kerchief. "Yes, a fine boy." Gathering the bloodied sheets, she placed them in an empty basket for the onerous duty of scrubbing. Curtsying again to the family, she turned to take her leave, the heavy basket of herbs and potions weighing her small arm down. Pertia caught her just outside the door. "What do you think you were doing?" she hissed, grabbing her arm hard enough to bruise. "You are not the Duke's daughter anymore, you are nothing, you hear me?" Her voice rose angrily on the last sentence. Selene twirled around, her emerald eyes cold. "I saved her life, in your home! More than i should have done, except that she was suffering, and doing you honor in this stolen palace of yours-" She was cut off with a sharp slap, then another. The girl, fierce in her uncharactericly defiant anger, did not even flinch. Quietly, as if nothing had happened, Selene continued coldly, "And you would rather let her die than allow me to try and save her!" She ducked skillfully from the third blow, disheveling her bound hair. "You devil!" Pertia gasped, her hauteur restored by her violence. "I should have done away with you long before this, girl, for all that your useless father's wealth financed my rise to power!" ~~~~~~~~~~~ Corren, sitting by his sister's bedside, smiled at the sleeping baby. His brother-in-law looked as emotionally exhausted, his eyes bloodshot. "Sis," Corren whispered. She opened one amber eye, smiling at her younger brother. "I'm fine," she managed back, grinning slyly. "You are so squemish, how are you ever going to hold the throne?" He stared back, his expression serious. "Do you still worry about that? That I, the younger, would rule simply because i'm male? I know-" he hushed her protest, "that you used to mind when we were younger." The princess glared back. "I did not! Besides," she tickled the tiny baby's nose gently, "I think i have my work cut out for me." Gripping her husbands hand, her sigh of happiness coincided exactly with the sound of a blow echoing through the hall. A second slap came quickly, which was followed by the angry voice of that Duchess Whats-Her-Name, slightly muffled by the walls. Corren's eyes met his father's, who was still standing in his corner of the room with his mother. His mouth twitched. "Oh, go on boy," he said. "I know what you're going to do." ~~~~~~~~~~~ By that time, Pertia had dashed the basket of herbs to the floor, scattering the packets dried leaves and bottles extensively. "Pick it up!" she dictated, demonically enjoying her power over the girl. She laughed scornfully, until the sound of a single foot tapping impatiently broke through the ruddy haze that clouded her mind. "Excuse me," the calm and slightly indignant voice of the young man interrupted. "And what is this? The goodwife who has healed the Princess is now being tormented, and by this 'fine' Lady?" he gestured to Pertia, a sardonic edge to his melodious voice. The stepmother halted her actions, bowing to the young man. "Your Highness," she murmered. Turning away from Pertia, the boy- Prince?- looked at Selene. "Ma'am, my father woul-" he startled audibly as he caught sight of her golden braid and young face, showing from behind the faded kerchief- "Miss? My father requires a word with you." Rising, Selene followed the Crown Prince back inside the room, her hands trembling slightly with fear and shock at finally meeting the monarch of the Kingdom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Selene followed the prince back into the bedroom. "Your Highness?" she whispered, horribly unsure of what to do. "I shouldn't be here, what will my ste- i mean, Madame Pertia say?" The prince shook his head firmly at this comment as he opened the door for her. The King, standing in the corner, walked forward. "Thank you, healer, for saving my daughter's life," he said, his voice rich and warm in the spacious room. "And i truly hope you have not suffered any unneeded...consequences for your services." "Oh, no Sire," she said quietly. She curtsyed hastily, kneeling on the floor deferentially in front of them. The King, a tall man, stared down at her gravely from a great distance, his golden eyes thoughtful. "You are very skilled at your work," he commented. "Have you been in practice long? For you seem to have plenty of experience." Selene began to answer as the Queen, as small in stature as her husband was big, moved forward calmly. "Husband, dear, she is but a young thing," her gentle voice said, "for all she hides her glorious hair behind a kerchief." Corren nodded in agreement as the King, turning sharply, suddenly studied her features so closely she shifted with discomfort. "Child," the Queen prodded gently, her hazel eyes gazing at Selene. "Could you trust us with your true appearance?" Selene could see no way out, besides offending the royal family. Reaching up hesitantly, she removed the faded kerchief and slowly let it drop to the floor. Her braid, tumbling to the floor, shone well in the candlelight and fell with a soft thump on the rich carpet. "Why, Mother!" the princess exclaimed, looking up wearily from the bed. "She's so lovely, and not much older than Corren?" she inquired, curious. Turning her face towards the floor, Selene shook her head. "I am sixteen," she murmured quietly, and the princess nodded. Looking at her husband, the princess tried to take her husbands arm playfully, but lacked the energy for such a large movement. "See? She is only a year or so younger than my brother. I know because i saw her over me while i was sick, like an angel." Her voice trailed off weakly. Her husband, still drawn with worry for his wife, nodded as he cradled the sleeping baby quietly. The King sighed kindly. "Child, as my daughter is still weak and pale with her ordeal, we would wish you to care for her during our stay at Mistress Pertia's home." Seeing her facial expression give protest, the King continued, "I shall see to it that this is your main work, and that you are excused from other duties as this is more important." "Thank you, Sire," she whispered. Rising, she bowed once again to the family and quietly slipped through the door. For once, unshielded by her restraining headcovering, she walked past the gaping Pertia without fear. ~~~~~~~~~~~~` "Miss?" Selene twisted around from her table, scattering a few stray leaves to the floor. Leaning against the doorframe was the Prince. "Can I come in?" She nodded, "Of course!" Then, however, she remembered her manners and stood hastily to curtsy. Blushing at her ineptness, she gestured to the other chair in the small herbal workroom. "I'm just replenishing some of my stocks, since..." Snatching up her kerchief, she began to bind up her hair again. "Since the mishap in the hallway," the boy's voice returned, slightly laced with humor. "And you don't really need that thing, do you?" he added, looking at the worn head covering. "I won't tell." "Oh," she began, embarrassed. "All right, your Highness." Picking up a pestal, filled with sweet ground cinnimon, she began to pour small amounts into tiny cloth bags. Picking up a pen and the small labels she made from scraps of parchment, Selene carefully wrote "cinnimon" several times, slightly unnerved by the presence of the Crown Prince watching her. "You can write," he commmented, his eyes thoughtful as he regarded her neat, accurate script. She nodded slightly, wondering why he looked so surprised. "Yes," Selene answered, avoiding his lovely golden eyes with unexplainable shyness. What was wrong with her? "Um...I usually work with the herbs, teas, and garden, though I am also usually assigned to cleaning the mistresses rooms." Somehow her voice betrayed some indignation, because the prince looked at her strangely. His mouth opened to ask a question when the door slammed open. Elenia walked in haughtily, and grabbed the kerchief off the table. "Ella, what did Mother say abou..." she stopped, seeing the Prince seated at the table. "Your Highness," she murmered, suddenly a gentle, mild noblewoman. She curtsyed, fluttering an ornate fan that had been produced from out of nowhere. "Good afternoon," the prince replied stiffly, obviously annoyed by the sudden change in personalities. Turning back to Selene, Elenia smiled sweetly. "Ella dear, could I please have some of you wonderful mint leaves?" she simpered. "They left such a lovely scent in my room." Picking up a packet of dried mint, Selene handed it to the false girl. "Oh, thank you!" she said, accepting it daintily. "Ella-in-the-Cinders," she whispered. Bowing to the prince once more, she gracefully left the small workroom with a swish of satin skirts. ~~~~~~~~~~ The prince grimaced. "I would just die if i had to live with her," he sighed, turning to the girl. He was startled to see her fists clenched beneath her homespun skirts, her emerald eyes sparking with fury. "I have never asked your name yet," he inquired, at a loss for words. "Is it Ella?" She turned away, her thick golden braid hiding her face from view. "Ella-in-the-Cinders," she replied bitterly, trying to control her voice and anger. Corren stared at her. What was wrong? "Is that not your name?" he asked, before nearly slapping himself on the head. "Of course thats not your name." He paused, feeling like an idiot. "Could you tell me your true name?" Her face still bowed to her lap, she shook her head. "Your Highness, I am not supposed to tell, for if I do, I shall be punished." "I will not tell," he said, leaning closer. "I would like to be your friend, for my family shall be here for a while, and it does get lonely." He smiled slightly, remembering Pertia and the abominable Elenia. "And i don't wish to keep company with the others in the household." She laughed softly. "Elesia is kind," she said, defending her friend. "Well, true. But then, I haven't met her." Calmer now, she whispered, "You promise not to tell a soul, your Highness?" He nodded. Then slowly, as if someone else might hear, she breathed out her name. "Selene." "Selene, I'm Corren." He held out his hand, and she shook it firmly. "Thank you, your Highness," she said with some relief, as if some burden was lifted from her when she had uttered her name. Grinning, the boy protested, "You don't have to call me that, you know. I'm not High yet and we're pretty much the same age." Tilting her head, she looked at him blankly. "Yesterday, you said that you were sixteen?" At her nod, he continued. "I'm almost eighteen, but my father treats me like i'm twelve." She laughed at his exasperation, more at ease now in his presence. "All right, your Hi-" she stopped herself in time as he made a choked, strangled noise. Giggling hopelessly, she managed to say, "Sorry," as she smiled up at him, face awash with impish delight. Corren's heart fluttered twice, and then all was normal again. Shaking his head once to dispel the sensation, he leaned back in his chair. "Can I help?" Reaching up above her to grab a bundle of drying herbs from the rafters, she nodded. "This is comfrey," she told him, picking up a needle and thread to make more small bags to hold the herbs. He nodded, and began to pull apart the tangled leaves in companionable silence. ~~~~~~~~~ Selene watched as the Princess Ryth hesitantly made her way around the garden. "You seem to be gaining health, your Highness," she said, as the young woman tottered around the cobblestone path weakly. She looked up and smiled, her dark hair gleaming in the near-dusk. "I hope so," she said cheerfully, reaching a small stone bench. Sitting with a sigh, she took the squirming baby from her quiet husband. "I do wish to be well again," she said wistfully. "These have been three long weeks." "It was a hard labor, and quite a physical ordeal," the healer told the princess."Never fear, it shall be soon," Gathering up various wrappers and shawls, Selene smiled at the young woman, who grinned back. Bundling Ryth up warmly, she saw to it that both the princess and her husband were comfortably in their rooms before returning for her basket of draughts and salves. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Let's see," Selene muttered to herself. "I have the four original bottles, and the seventeen packets of herbs...where's the fever potion?" Shuffling through the handwoven basket, she searched fruitlessly through the medicines. "Lost something?" the cruel voice of Pertia broke through the trees. She held up one hand, holding the small vial between her two fingers. Laughing, she retreated as Selene stood up. "May I have it back, please?" the girl asked quietly, her rage under substantial control. The woman cackled. "No," she taunted. "I do enjoy baiting you like this, it serves as entertainment." Pausing in exaggerated thought, she touched one finger to her chin. "It pleases me to see the daughter of the 'great duke' humbled by servitude." Selene gritted her teeth. No, not again, she prayed. I don't think i can stand another moment like this. Refusing to look at the usurper, she kept her eyes trained to the ground. "Great Duke indeed," Pertia scoffed. "Now I wield his power, and his precious daughter." She laughed again, the piercing noise sending shattering pain through Selene's mind. "He doted on you so, and that makes torturing you much more fun. And look at me while i speak." Selene's eyes misted over with tears of rage at the mention of her father. The woman snatched up the kerchief, flinging it at Selene repeatedly until the girl put it on. "And what is this about you speaking with the Prince?" she asked, dropping the vial of fever drink on the pavement, stepping over the broken glass. "I don't want to hear about that again, Cinder Ella. It isn't becoming for a servant who oversteps their place." Gripping the girl's upper arm, twisting it tightly until she gasped with pain, she slowly turned Selene's face upward. "And," a voice said behind Selene drawled, its tenor notes laced with anger, "It isn't becoming for a prominent noblewoman to torment a beholden servant, who is favored by the royal family for her skills." Corren smiled sardonically as Pertia stepped away from Selene so quickly she nearly stumbled. "I may be young," he said clearly, when the astonished Pertia began to color with anger, "but i have respect for fellow human beings." "Well, I never!" the woman exclaimed. "Good day, your Highness." Swishing her skirts, she practically ran away from the scene before she said something rash before the Heir. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Selene?" the boy whispered as he slowly slid over to her side. She shook her head, rubbing her sore arm. "I hate her," she said passionately, as tears began to leak over her rosy cheeks. Tearing off the head scarf, she flung it to the ground and with a heartbroken sob. "Why can't she just leave me alone?" Kneeling by her, the prince offered her a hankerchief. "Can I help?" he said quietly. He had never before realized...how hard life was for others. The gilded palace was a poor substitute for real life, especially the reality that the less fortunate bore. Shaking her head, the girl sniffled twice before ending her crying. If he had just gotten there earlier, in time to intercept Pertia...Corren felt so guilty for letting her down. Through all their three weeks together, she had taught him so much about herbs, friendship, and life- and all he had to offer her the protection his rank permitted- yet he had let her down. Drawing the sorrowful girl into his arms, he held her tightly until her shoulders stopped shaking with tears. "Shh," he said, stroking her hair gently. Wiping her eyes, Selene shook her head again. "Sorry," she muttered. "Shouldn't have broken down like this..." "She's a witch!" the boy exclaimed, just about ready to slap Pertia for her cruelty. He ran his fingers though his long, dark hair, deeply agitated for his gentle friend's sake. "But," Selene said softly, "she is in charge...but I wish she wouldn't speak so badly about my father...he was not agressive, that's true, but he was kindhearted and-" her words caught in her throat for a moment- "I miss him." She smiled, her eyes trained on the now darkened sky. "When I was a little girl," she breathed, "Papa told me that each star in the sky was a jewel. And if I reached out my hand, I could catch the divine gems, and they would descend to my palm like Zeus to Danae." She held her hand aloft, seemingly cupping one bright star in her pale, slender palm. Turning to Corren, she grinned. "Do you know the story?" "The princess locked in the tower," the prince replied. "To whom the Gods visited in her loneliness, falling down in a shower of golden light to meet her in divine marriage. Greek," he added with a smile. Nodding, Selene continued, the starry sky reflected in her green eyes, wide and brilliant with sorrow and shimmering tears. "He told me that whenever I'm truly lonely, I could stretch out my arm and clasp a star. And that when I fell in love, it would settle around me like falling stars." She shook her head back and laughed sadly into the chilly night air, her golden hair settling around her shoulders with her movement. "He told me this when I was thirteen years old," she continued with a wry grin, "so this conversation was in the context of the future, specifically betrothal and marriage." She paused for a long moment. "I never thought that someday, so soon, I would have to reach out to the sky alone. But now he's gone, and I still do this whenever I miss him the most." Her arm still outstretched, she sighed once and closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them again to regard the night sky solemnly. Corren watched the girl, the reflection of the crescent moon and her starry attendants gleaming into her tear-brightened eyes. Her upturned face was sorrowful, reminiscing of much better times, and one or two pearl-like tears slipped from her long lashes to the ground. Turning back to him, Selene smiled, though her eyes were still overflowing with sadness. Speaking softly, Corren took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the poignant story she had just told. His voice forceful with emotion, he took her yet outstretched hand in his. "Selene," he whispered, "He is still watching over you." "I hope so," she replied with one last glance towards the deep blue sky. "Thank you," she said softly, squeezing his hand before releasing it. "For being my friend, and helping me..." Standing up, she gathered her basket together. "Well," she sighed, "I must get back to work. And I think your sister is really getting better, in a week or so she should be back to normal." He managed a laugh, still affected by her speech. "She needs to whip her husband back into shape, she's the spouse with more sense and assertiveness," he told his friend, "Without her, Jems is just a pale but amiable shadow on the wall." "By the way," Selene asked, hefting her bundle. "Did you study Greek?" He nodded sadly. "My tutor taught me," he said ruefully. "I enjoyed the myths, as you can see, for i remember them yet. But the language!" he moaned as they walked out of the garden. "It was torture..." Her replying laugh faded off as they made their way through the trees and away from the small garden courtyard. ~~~~~~~~~~ The footman heaved the last trunk onto the carriage as the Princess Ryth walked sedately with her baby, her quiet husband trotting at her heels. Unlike the other servants, Selene watched the procession from the kitchen window. The king and queen waited by the steps of the gate, conversing with Pertia, Elenia, and Elesia. The latter daughter wrung her hands under her skirt, dreadfully nervous at the close proximity of the royal family. Selene sighed. The month had ended too quickly, though Ryth was not fully healed. She would miss Corren, and his friendship, dearly. "Selene?" a quiet voice said behind her. She turned hastily, upsetting the stool she sat upon. Corren grinned as she blushed, picking up the offending seat from the ground. "I have to leave now," he said slowly, as if wishing to prolong his stay. "I know," she replied, wondering what to say. Would the Prince, returning to his exquisite palace and worldly position, remember a passing servant girl? Her eyes threatened to spill over, yet she stubbornly held back her tears behind her calm emerald gaze. He stood there, the strangest look in his golden brown eyes. "I...am so glad to have met you," he stumbled over his words, "When I can, I will visit...that is, if it's all right..." he added hastily. Selene grinned, her turn to find humor in the other's dismay. "Of course! That is, if you can survive Pertia throwing her younger daughter at you whenever you come." Groaning, Corren fended off the imaginary girl with protesting hands. "Ahhh! Too scary!" he joked. "She's almost like a predator, they both seem to know where I am, and how to 'attack' me while i'm least expecting it..." He knew he was babbling, but didn't care. "Corren?" The queen's voice broke through their indivisual reveries, and startling them both into movement. "We're going to leave, and without you!" "Coming!" he hollered back. Turning back to Selene, the young man took her hand in both of his awkwardly. "Thank you, for everything." He kissed her hand, blushing, then turned and fled through the kitchen door, leaving a thoroughly shocked girl with her hand still poised in the air. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ One week later, Elesia walked timidly into the small herbal workroom. "Selene?" she said quietly, carrying a box of pink silk pieces and ribbons. "Mother wants us- well, you- to make sachets for her party in two days, rose and lilac. But it shall be we who make these." Offering the box, the painfully slender girl sat across from Selene and began to thread a needle. They chattered about the upcoming banquet, the guests, who was seeing who and who married who for half an hour. Quietly and neatly, they sewed the tiny bags to be filled with dried petals. "Elesia?" Selene began, almost as timidly as her step-sister usually spoke. "Yes?" She flushed. "Why does your mother hate me so?" she asked, for the first time in the two years she had known Pertia. "And your sister?" Elesia put down her sewing, smoothing the pale, silky cloth. "Well," she said slowly, deliberately, "I know my mother dislikes you because she...disliked...your father," the girl said tactfully. "She wants to keep you quiet so you cannot claim a portion of the fortune she acquired through her unloved marriage. Also, she is hateful because you are everything she wishes her Elenia to be, so she continuously grinds you into the common soil as a servant." The brunette paused for a long while, hand poised over the rose-silk sachet. "Elenia is spiteful because Mother wishes her to be beautiful, accomplished, and popular, let alone make a good match. Though she meets these requirements, she is forced to struggle to maintain it. She loathes you because, dear sister, you can obviously do all four without any effort." The gentle girl sighed, ending her uncharacteristically sentimental explaination, and sat silently once again. Selene drank in the information. "Thank you," she said softly. "I have been wondering for so long...But," she added, "why do you not hate me also? I know Pertia pressures you also." Elesia smiled, her blue eyes candid. "Mother doesn't pressure me half as much as she does to my sister," she laughed, her pretty face alight with mischief, "and besides, I like you. It seems sometimes that you are my true sibling and the other some faerie's changeling." They giggled together for a second or two, imagining Elenia with wings, forever nagging at the flower petals and soft moss. Elesia shook her chestnut curls, dispelling all bad thoughts. "By the way, have you heard who the latest Elenia Courter is?" Selene looked up inquiringly, and her step-sister proceeded to tell the latest gossip. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Corren sat at his window, staring into the dark blue sky. "Catch one in your hand," he whispered to himself, curbing the urge to reach out as Selene did. Barely managing to do this, he reminded himself that the girl probably didn't even care about him, or even remember. "What a fool I am," Corren muttered. He missed her so much...his only true friend, unconditionally accepting him for who he was, not just his crown or title. Like those court girls, who chirped brainlessly for attention. He was not a naturally suave or flirtatious person, to their dismay, so they felt the hideous need to crowd around him more, until he felt like screaming in frustration. He sighed, going over the list in his mind. Three months before he needed to make a choice. Who was he to break three hundred years of tradition? The prince had to be betrothed before his eighteenth birthday. Parades of endless girls, all suitable matches, flashed before his eyes, all demure with eyes downcast in mock shyness. And yet, he knew which girl he loved already, one who stood in the corner, whose green eyes met his gaze firmly, without fear or reserve. Utterly miserable, he gave in and extended one hand to the silver-spotted sky, cupping one sparkling star in his palm. Little did he know that Selene, on the other side of the river, was holding the same star in her own hand, her heart aching for the loss of her Prince. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |