“Soon,” Vera said.
A missing doll?
The child pouted. “Can’t find her anywhere.”
“I’m sorry.”
She huffed. “Stay with us tonight?”
“If I can, little one,” the lady said. “I have much to do, and you’re the biggest part of it all.”
“Yay.” She clapped her hands, her cheery mood restored. “Presents?”
“Some might say that.”
The mother rose from the sofa. “You’re always welcome here, Aunt Vera, you know this.”
“I come bearing news, Mayline.” My—Aunt Vera’s—lips spread wide in a smile. I could feel it just like I did the ache in her left foot.
“I cannot wait to hear.” The mother’s eyes sparkled, and like with the room, I took in her appearance. She was tiny, slender, and she had long brown hair she’d swept up in a pretty arrangement on the back of her head. She wore a blue gown that matched her eyes and skimmed across her dark blue shoes, plus silver jewelry appropriate for day wear. I only knew the latter because Brenna had educated me during my time serving as her lady-in-waiting.
Unlike her mother, the little girl had green eyes that looked nice with her simple, pale peach dress. She’d inherited her mother’s dark hair. Had she gotten her eye color from her father? I could see the similarity in her cheekbones and slight frame, however.
“Let’s put this precious one to bed, and I’ll tell you everything,” Vera said, taking the child’s hand. “Come, love. It’s past time you were asleep.”
“I want to play! I want stories.” She tilted her head to look at her mother. “Please, Mummy, can’t I stay up longer?”
“I have exciting news to discuss with your aunt. You can play and listen to stories tomorrow.” The mother took the child’s other hand, and they urged her from the room and into an equally gorgeous foyer, up a wide staircase and onto a plushily decorated landing. They continued down the hall on the right, stopping at a door.
It was obviously the child’s room. As we stepped inside, we were enveloped in a soft palette of blush and cream. The room had a whimsical feel, and I could tell by the shimmering sparkle drifting around them that some of the furnishings had been crafted with magic. Her canopy bed arched above where she slept and was carved from a wood unlike anything I’d seen before. I sensed it was ancient, as old as this castle. The curtains draped along the sides and were tied back with big cream-colored bows that danced as if to an unheard melody.
As Aunt Vera walked into the room with the child and mother, her feet sunk into the soft carpet designed with delicate pictures of frolicking woodland creatures. They appeared innocent and each laughed as if they’d happily given their images for this display.
Handcrafted toys lay on woven mats, scattered in front of big, open wooden boxes. Overhead, lights shaped like stars beamed down from the high ceiling that had been blackened to look like the night sky.
How could anyone sleep any way but peacefully here? A pang of envy shot through me. I’d slept curled up on a hard bunk in a room with nine other children, some sobbing half the night, others crying out from the nightmares of dreg attacks that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.
There’d been no pretty toys, no lush carpet underfoot, and no stars winking from above except the stark ones witnessing the horrors we regularly faced on the border.
The women helped the child dress in a pale green nightie and after washing in the adjoining bathing area, she climbed into bed, wiggling under the soft covers, a smile on her face.
Such innocence. I wanted to ask if she’d hold onto that or would it be stolen like mine.
Sadly, it will be taken from her as quickly as it was with you,Vera told me.There’s more you must see and hear.
Yes, I was sure there was.
Aunt Vera sat on the side of the bed and stroked the little girl’s hair off her face. “One day, you will wed a wonderful man.”
“She’s too young to hear this,” the mother said, though indulgently. I could tell she was happy to hear the news.
“Things have changed, and that’s why I’ve come,” Vera said. “It was not easy, but I found a way to visit. He’s . . .” Her sigh rang out. “You can only imagine.”
“Terrible,” the mother said.
“When I carefully showed him your picture in his dreams, little one,” Vera stroked the child’s forehead but directed her gaze to the mother, “he displayed the mark.”
The mother clapped her hands, her voice echoing joyfully in the room. So pretty, as sweet as the child and Vera. Who were these people, and why was I seeing this?
