The hallway towards Princess Liana’s suite stretched on for miles.
What’s a foyer? I raised my fingers to my mouth and nibbled on the raw pockets of red flesh around my nails as I stared ahead, wondering what strange fate had brought me here. Alright, let’s go. I held my breath and inched my way forward, scurrying across doorways in case someone opened one and confronted me. Trying my best to avoid stepping on any of the carpets, I stayed close to the wall like a frightened insect.
I gaped at the walls on either side of me, amazed. The existence of such a place had been inconceivable to me. What am I doing here? I stopped and tore off a piece of my fingernail, but not knowing where to spit, I swallowed it instead. At the slightest sound, I stopped and pressed my back against the wall like a tentative thief.
***
I stood frozen and mute, my hands still clasped behind me.
“Come,” she repeated.
Eyes downcast, I approached her within a few feet.
“You must be Jade?”
I looked up and nodded, suddenly remembering to curtsy.
“My, you’re thin!” she observed.
I nodded again and awkwardly repeated the curtsy.
“It’s alright for you to speak.”
“Ummm…” I stuttered.
“I heard you singing.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I uttered faintly.
“Where did you learn to sing like that?”
“Well,” I began, my words barely audible. “My father played the violin as far back as I can remember.”
“Really, and?”
“Well,” I struggled. “I just started singing along with him. I suppose it comes naturally…I suppose…Your Highness.”
“Ohh…you have such a beautiful voice…you’re so lucky. I wish I could sing like that.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be seventeen in a month,” I answered, my eyes dropping back to the floor.
“Really? So will I.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And you’re from the flatlands?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” My mind had gone blank; I could think of nothing intelligent to say, and I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at her.
“Have you ever sung before an audience?”
“Yes, but never before such fine people.”
“Don’t worry…you’ll be wonderful. Now, I want you to go down to the first floor to the music room. That’s where the orchestra rehearses. I want you to sing in the evenings…when we go to the great hall after dinner, or whenever the king or I entertain guests.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“My governess explained the arrangement?” she asked, finally standing up, whereupon I was surprised to find myself several inches taller.
“Umm, yes…I think so…if I might ask, Miss?”
“Yes?”
“How long will this arrangement be for?” I broached tentatively.
“I don’t know,” she replied casually. “We’ll see…but for now, you’re forbidden from leaving the castle.” She looked at me smugly. “But…you don’t have to do this, you know, you can return to the dungeon…it’s your choice.”
Return to the dungeon?
“Well, what’s your decision?”
“I’ll stay, Miss…I’ll sing for you.”
“Good. See my governess and sign the agreement papers…you may go now.”
I curtsied and turned to leave.
“Oh…one more thing,” she walked toward me and glanced around to make sure we were alone. “You’re not from Shanty Row,” she whispered. “You’re the daughter of a merchant, and you agreed to sing for us in the hopes of advancing your career. That’s your story…and that’s the story I told the king…he wouldn’t know you were scheduled for execution…he doesn’t get involved at that level. But stay out of sight of the commander. You know who he is, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Alright. He’s hardly ever inside the castle, and he probably wouldn’t recognize you now anyway…Nan says you don’t look anything like when you came out of that place,” she rambled. “But, just in case, if you see him coming your way, turn around and immediately head in the other direction. Understand?”
“Yes,” I stuttered nervously. “I understand.”
“Very well. I’m having guests here for a formal dinner and concert on my birthday in three weeks, and I want you to be one of the performers.”
“Yes, Your Highness, I know. We have the same birthday.”
***
“I hate lamb.”
“Your Highness?”
“I said, I hate lamb!”
“Forgive me, Miss, but I thought lamb was one of your favorites.”
“You’re obviously mistaken!”
“Anything you say, Your Highness, I’ll remove this at once.” the butler clapped his hands and the manservant nodded. He turned back to the princess. “What can I get you instead?”
“Nothing, nothing! Never mind…I don’t want anything!” she stood and shouted at the door through which her father had just exited. “Just clear this away!”
But, before the butler could do so, Liana grabbed her plate and flung it against the wall. The manservant ducked, shielding his face as the china shattered and the flying food barely missed his head. She turned her back unapologetically and stormed out of the room.
The manservant stared at the butler in dismay. “Good God!”
“Remove it!” the butler replied, trying to wipe away a piece of potato that had landed on his immaculate suit, but his efforts only smeared it deeper into the fabric. “Get a maid in here, now!” he shouted, throwing the napkin on the table in disgust. “And tell the governess I need to speak with her immediately!”
***
“I feel selfish and ungrateful complaining about my life, but nobody understands. Oh, what’s the use…” she said, slumping from the chair onto the carpet. “You don’t understand what I’m saying either.”
“Your Highness…what’re you doing? Get up, please!”
“Nobody understands me…nobody, and I can’t cope anymore…I just can’t cope...” she groaned and began pounding her fists on the cushion.
My pulse started to race.
And with each pound of her fist, she began chanting in a monotone voice. “I can’t cope…I just can’t cope…”
Oh, no, it’s happening again!
“Your Highness? Your Highness?”
But, she didn’t hear me. Her chant gradually increased and turned into angry grunting as she began to tear at the cushion’s seams. I rose and glanced around helplessly. Oh, God, what do I do? She was getting louder and working herself into a frenzy; the cushion finally came apart, spurting feathers into the air. Touching her was forbidden, but something was desperately wrong with her.
***
I was startled out of sleep again tonight, believing that my head was still on the chopping block and the sword was about to strike. I lay awake, listening to the chanting, boot stomping and sword clinking that accompanied the nightly changing of the guard. Every night the castle went to sleep to this ceremony, and awoke to the sound of trumpets and another day of drawn-out rituals.
I pulled my blanket tighter around my body, never seeming to get warm enough here. The mountain was cold, true, but its climate seems to have seeped not only through the large, drafty spaces of the castle, but also through the mentality of those who occupied it. There was a hidden force here, a constant, palpable undercurrent of anxiety that I sensed, but couldn’t pinpoint.
I pondered the people I’d encountered here. The hatred and cruelty that I’d come across in less than a year on this mountain was unlike anything I’d experienced in all my years on the flatlands.
The princess’ temperament shocked and mystified me … her rages, her violence, her sudden change of moods. Why was someone so beautiful, so privileged…so miserable? She might on a moment’s whim have me executed after all. And what if the commander recognized me someday? I’d been placed in the castle, but my life could very well still be in grave danger. How long was I to be spared?
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What’s a foyer? I raised my fingers to my mouth and nibbled on the raw pockets of red flesh around my nails as I stared ahead, wondering what strange fate had brought me here. Alright, let’s go. I held my breath and inched my way forward, scurrying across doorways in case someone opened one and confronted me. Trying my best to avoid stepping on any of the carpets, I stayed close to the wall like a frightened insect.
I gaped at the walls on either side of me, amazed. The existence of such a place had been inconceivable to me. What am I doing here? I stopped and tore off a piece of my fingernail, but not knowing where to spit, I swallowed it instead. At the slightest sound, I stopped and pressed my back against the wall like a tentative thief.
***
I stood frozen and mute, my hands still clasped behind me.
“Come,” she repeated.
Eyes downcast, I approached her within a few feet.
“You must be Jade?”
I looked up and nodded, suddenly remembering to curtsy.
“My, you’re thin!” she observed.
I nodded again and awkwardly repeated the curtsy.
“It’s alright for you to speak.”
“Ummm…” I stuttered.
“I heard you singing.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I uttered faintly.
“Where did you learn to sing like that?”
“Well,” I began, my words barely audible. “My father played the violin as far back as I can remember.”
“Really, and?”
“Well,” I struggled. “I just started singing along with him. I suppose it comes naturally…I suppose…Your Highness.”
“Ohh…you have such a beautiful voice…you’re so lucky. I wish I could sing like that.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be seventeen in a month,” I answered, my eyes dropping back to the floor.
“Really? So will I.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And you’re from the flatlands?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” My mind had gone blank; I could think of nothing intelligent to say, and I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at her.
“Have you ever sung before an audience?”
“Yes, but never before such fine people.”
“Don’t worry…you’ll be wonderful. Now, I want you to go down to the first floor to the music room. That’s where the orchestra rehearses. I want you to sing in the evenings…when we go to the great hall after dinner, or whenever the king or I entertain guests.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“My governess explained the arrangement?” she asked, finally standing up, whereupon I was surprised to find myself several inches taller.
“Umm, yes…I think so…if I might ask, Miss?”
“Yes?”
“How long will this arrangement be for?” I broached tentatively.
“I don’t know,” she replied casually. “We’ll see…but for now, you’re forbidden from leaving the castle.” She looked at me smugly. “But…you don’t have to do this, you know, you can return to the dungeon…it’s your choice.”
Return to the dungeon?
“Well, what’s your decision?”
“I’ll stay, Miss…I’ll sing for you.”
“Good. See my governess and sign the agreement papers…you may go now.”
I curtsied and turned to leave.
“Oh…one more thing,” she walked toward me and glanced around to make sure we were alone. “You’re not from Shanty Row,” she whispered. “You’re the daughter of a merchant, and you agreed to sing for us in the hopes of advancing your career. That’s your story…and that’s the story I told the king…he wouldn’t know you were scheduled for execution…he doesn’t get involved at that level. But stay out of sight of the commander. You know who he is, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Alright. He’s hardly ever inside the castle, and he probably wouldn’t recognize you now anyway…Nan says you don’t look anything like when you came out of that place,” she rambled. “But, just in case, if you see him coming your way, turn around and immediately head in the other direction. Understand?”
“Yes,” I stuttered nervously. “I understand.”
“Very well. I’m having guests here for a formal dinner and concert on my birthday in three weeks, and I want you to be one of the performers.”
“Yes, Your Highness, I know. We have the same birthday.”
***
“I hate lamb.”
“Your Highness?”
“I said, I hate lamb!”
“Forgive me, Miss, but I thought lamb was one of your favorites.”
“You’re obviously mistaken!”
“Anything you say, Your Highness, I’ll remove this at once.” the butler clapped his hands and the manservant nodded. He turned back to the princess. “What can I get you instead?”
“Nothing, nothing! Never mind…I don’t want anything!” she stood and shouted at the door through which her father had just exited. “Just clear this away!”
But, before the butler could do so, Liana grabbed her plate and flung it against the wall. The manservant ducked, shielding his face as the china shattered and the flying food barely missed his head. She turned her back unapologetically and stormed out of the room.
The manservant stared at the butler in dismay. “Good God!”
“Remove it!” the butler replied, trying to wipe away a piece of potato that had landed on his immaculate suit, but his efforts only smeared it deeper into the fabric. “Get a maid in here, now!” he shouted, throwing the napkin on the table in disgust. “And tell the governess I need to speak with her immediately!”
***
“I feel selfish and ungrateful complaining about my life, but nobody understands. Oh, what’s the use…” she said, slumping from the chair onto the carpet. “You don’t understand what I’m saying either.”
“Your Highness…what’re you doing? Get up, please!”
“Nobody understands me…nobody, and I can’t cope anymore…I just can’t cope...” she groaned and began pounding her fists on the cushion.
My pulse started to race.
And with each pound of her fist, she began chanting in a monotone voice. “I can’t cope…I just can’t cope…”
Oh, no, it’s happening again!
“Your Highness? Your Highness?”
But, she didn’t hear me. Her chant gradually increased and turned into angry grunting as she began to tear at the cushion’s seams. I rose and glanced around helplessly. Oh, God, what do I do? She was getting louder and working herself into a frenzy; the cushion finally came apart, spurting feathers into the air. Touching her was forbidden, but something was desperately wrong with her.
***
I was startled out of sleep again tonight, believing that my head was still on the chopping block and the sword was about to strike. I lay awake, listening to the chanting, boot stomping and sword clinking that accompanied the nightly changing of the guard. Every night the castle went to sleep to this ceremony, and awoke to the sound of trumpets and another day of drawn-out rituals.
I pulled my blanket tighter around my body, never seeming to get warm enough here. The mountain was cold, true, but its climate seems to have seeped not only through the large, drafty spaces of the castle, but also through the mentality of those who occupied it. There was a hidden force here, a constant, palpable undercurrent of anxiety that I sensed, but couldn’t pinpoint.
I pondered the people I’d encountered here. The hatred and cruelty that I’d come across in less than a year on this mountain was unlike anything I’d experienced in all my years on the flatlands.
The princess’ temperament shocked and mystified me … her rages, her violence, her sudden change of moods. Why was someone so beautiful, so privileged…so miserable? She might on a moment’s whim have me executed after all. And what if the commander recognized me someday? I’d been placed in the castle, but my life could very well still be in grave danger. How long was I to be spared?
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