Today is my last day here. Soon Avenly will no longer be my home, and I will move to Latien to live in the palace.
“Do you want me to pack these pictures?” the maid asks.
“No, I don’t want to remember.”
“Are you sure, M’lady?” I don’t know her name- the maid’s name. I’ve had the same maid for ten years and I don’t know her name. I was never allowed to ask, never allowed to care. The maid questions me again. I ignore her and continue facing the window attempting to enjoy my last sunrise from my childhood bedroom: one of the only good things about this wretched place. The trees in the valley below shimmer as the lights hit them, donning a white apparel to signal me off. The village below is peaceful as if nothing is going to change and, I suppose for them, nothing will. Their lives will continue just as before... It’s not as if I associated with them anyway.
“That’s the last of it, M’lady.” I turn towards her; she is standing by my bed, bags strewn across the floor by her feet. She isn’t very old, maybe a little over thirty; not ugly, but not pretty either. She has plain brown hair that’s always tied up in a bun, and plain brown eyes tinged with sadness. I used to wonder what kind of life she lived, but now I realize it doesn’t matter.
“Call for the men, then,” I turn back towards the window. This is the end, I suppose. A deep longing fills me and I inhale sharply trying to hold it down. When it doesn’t go away, I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw. Reflexively, my hand goes against the window. My head pounds feverishly, and my ears fill with the thudding of my heart.
The click of the door alerts me to he maid’s exit and I reluctantly swivel around to survey the empty room. Aloof grey walls stare into my soul daring me to feel, sending shivers through my body. The sharp edges of the bed taunt me into restlessness. The lack of personal effects is obvious and while an outsider would think this is due to everything being packed, in reality it’s because I never had any. There’s no evidence of a life, just a cold unfeeling room for a cold unfeeling girl. I stagger towards the door and leave without looking back.
The stone hallway is empty except for me, however, I’ve learned someone is always watching. So, I hold my head high and place a dainty smile on my face as though this is what I've wanted my whole life. Now, I go to find Father whom is probably awaiting me in the meal hall.
The meal hall is a large room that the family only utilizes for formal events or when we have over forty guests. The walls are wooden, giving it a rustic appearance, and covered with antlers and the heads of animals from across the country. There are 10 long tables throughout the room lengthwise and one table in the front of the room widthwise. When I reach the doors to it, I await patiently for the servant to open them.
As they open, I am hit with the stench of alcohol. Thankfully, experience has prepared me for it and disgust doesn’t show on my face. I have never understood how people can drink in the morning. I step into the room and find several of the tables filled with the remaining guests from the previous night’s celebration. Father sits at the table on the far side of the room. On noting my arrival, he stands and everyone in the room follows suit, including my twin who makes no effort to hide her disdain (no, she would not make a good queen). I smile at her with what might actually be conceived as pleasure. Crossing the room to where they are, I take a seat next to my sister and everyone follows suit. After a slight pause, the chatter picks up again as a servant brings me a plate of food.
I am not allowed to eat much in order to keep the “perfect size” and the foods I am allowed are less than appetizing. These standards were set by my mother’s health advisory committee: a bunch of anorexic prunes who look like they’re going to pass out all the time.
“Are you ready to depart, sister?” Annika asks as she takes a bite of food from her grossly filled plate and chews with pleasure. Looking down at my own plate, I hold back a sigh at the meager portion of fruit wishing I could have the freedom to eat as much as I’d like. But then I look at my sister’s rather plump form and, for once, I’m glad that I’m half-starved.
“You know I would not have come down if I was not ready to leave,” I say, and she smiles condescendingly.
“Of course. You’re always ready for everything, Avelyce.” I return her smile, and, despite the complaints of my stomach, eat my food slowly. Annika’s nose scrunches up as she watches me before she moves to talk to someone on her left. Grateful to be out of her scrutiny, I finish eating in silence until Father decides to acknowledge me.
“Daughter, it is times like these, sitting here on the verge of your departure, that I cannot help the sorrow that overtakes me.” With one elbow on the table, he sits facing me. His graying brown hair falls into his eyes giving him a somber disposition. If it weren’t for the light dancing in his expressive green eyes I might actually think he was sorry to see me go.
“Don’t worry, Father,” I say, “You’ll just have to visit often to make up for my absence.” His eyes twinkle at the thought.
“Nothing can make up for the pain your departure will cause me. At least the rest of your sisters will not leave me so soon.” At that last statement real sorrow enters his eyes and I almost feel like laughing... Almost. I smile and look down at my empty plate.
The remaining guests in the hall come up periodically to wish me well on my journey and to mention that they’ll be at the wedding, when a servant informs us that it is time for my departure. My sister closes her eyes in relief and a mixture of feelings rise up in me and this time, I don’t try to stop them.
Dazed, I don’t remember leaving the room or walking down the hall to the entrance of my home. All I know is the emptiness that caresses me like a dear friend. In the courtyard, my mother awaits me on the front steps, though my father walks ahead of me to join her.
She greets me with a small smile and folds me into her warm embrace. She is the only one truly sad to see me go. After all, I’ve been her only true friend these past years. When she pulls away, her black hair is mussed and her honey colored eyes shimmer with tears. She holds me at arm's length for a moment and says, “Remember everything I’ve taught you, dear.” With a small smile, the only genuine one I’ve received all day, she passes me on to my father, who, while not the most loving parent, pulls me in for a hug and gently kisses the top of my head.
“You bear my name. Wear it with pride.” Looking up at him, I nod my head. He releases me and I look around one final time at the familiar courtyard whose dusty stone floors are scuffed with memories of sword fights and horse hooves. Lingering a moment longer, I slowly walk down the steps to where the carriage waits. All eyes are on me as a footman wordlessly helps me in and closes the door and then… I’m alone.
Looking out the window of the carriage, I see my father has already gone inside and not one of my five sisters has rushed to see me off as I secretly hoped they would. The only person who is still there is my mother; staring proudly at me for the life she wished she had. As the carriage starts to move, she lifts her arm in a formal farewell. I copy the gesture, arm raised to wave good-bye. But as I lift my hand to do so, I realize she doesn’t really care that I’m leaving either. While, yes, she doesn’t want me to leave, she’s glad that I’m going to live the life she always dreamed of. The life she and my father paid so much for me to have. In that moment, I meet her eyes and yank the curtains shut.