Amy Beery
9/3/10
Literature
Molly
The last thing I remember about my home is the death of my mother. My family was always poor; however, we were filled with joy. My mother married too early, at the age of sixteen. My dad wasn't ready to commit either, and after he found out my mom was pregnant with me, he left her. When I was born, my mom loved me with an unconditional love. Unfortunately, she was never able to gain a steady income. Everyone in the kingdom was required to pay a tremendously high tax, which my mom could never pay. The law of Ulania, the country in which we lived, stated that if a family could not pay the tax in full in a five year time frame, they were to be put to death, and their children would become slaves of the king to repay the debt. That's what happened. I watched my mother be brutally executed in front of me at age five by the King's soldiers. In that same moment, I was taken away to the castle to become a kitchen slave in the royal palace.
It has been thirteen years since the day I was whisked away to the castle, and the memory of my mother's death still haunts and torments me everywhere I go. I am grateful that I have food and somewhere to sleep at night, but anger still burns within toward the king and all who work for him. I am to respect the royal family, and if you were to ask anyone who works close to me, they would say that I am neither bitter nor angry. I always do my best to have a positive, cheerful and grateful attitude because I know that I could be dead of starvation or disease. The palace pantry is always full, even though the land is barren because of drought. It hasn't rained in Ulania for several years, drying up fields and rivers. It seems that all the people have lost all hope of rain, and the people suffer. The king has plenty to share; yet his greed keeps him fat! The royal family is ignorant of suffering, and could care less about the suffering of others; therefore, I despise them all.
One day, I was carrying a large bag of flour from the pantry to the kitchen. Scurrying, I hurried along the hall, knowing that a long list of chores awaited me in the kitchen. I was in such a hurry and was not looking where I was going. As I turned the corner, I collided with another person. The burlap the sack was made of must have been poor, or the top of the bag wasn't completely shut because when we knocked into each other, flour flew from the bag, making a cloud in the air. I fell down from the impact. I sat there stunned for a moment, and then laughed out loud. My ratty brown dress was turned gray from the layer of flour, and I could see that my red hair was coated with white. I could only image how ridiculous my face looked. It was then I heard the other person laughing as well. Still giggling, I turned to see whom I had run into. I recognized him in a heartbeat, and my laughter stopped instantly and my smile fell. There, sitting on the floor a few feet away, was Prince Aden. I was frozen in my spot by my fear. Would I be punished for laughing in his humiliation?
After a panic stricken moment, I gained some of my composure. I stammered, "I-I am so sorry, Your Highness! I should have been looking where I was going." It was then I realized that the prince was still chuckling. He thought it was funny; therefore, he probably wouldn't punish me. In between gasps of laughter, Prince Aden replied, "No need for an apology. I wasn't looking either."
Finally his laughter subsided, and he rose to his feet and offered me his hand. I hesitated then stood without the assistance of his hand. I couldn't help but smile when a cloud of flour fell from my dress. I looked up at him, and realized what astonishing blue eyes he had. The flour dulled his dark, shiny, shaggy brown hair. I also realized how tall he was; he towered over me by a head and a shoulder. All of the sudden I felt all the more awkward. I dropped my gaze.
"I'm Prince Aden, by the way", he stated.
"I am well aware, Your Highness", I answered, slightly annoyed that he thought I was so ignorant to not know who he was. "I am Molly. A lowly, loyal, and hard working servant of the King." I curtsied humbly, "Good day, Your Highness." I picked up the half filled bag of flour, and hurriedly scurried to the kitchen. As I walked away, could feel the Prince's gaze burning a hole in my back. When I arrived at the kitchen it was then I realized I was flushed with embarrassment, which almost never happened to me.
As each hot and dry day passed, I did my best to forget about the prince. Burdened by the memory of him as I worked was quite distracting because no matter how hard I tried, I could not get him out of my head. I scolded myself daily, for I knew he must have forgotten about the whole incident. Unfortunately, he came down to the kitchen at least once a week to 'check on the kitchen efficiency'. Every time he came, I couldn't help but noticed that his gaze frequently and repeatedly went to me as I worked. It drove me utterly mad! One day, he asked me to speak with him in the hall. I couldn't help but feel nervous.
We stood there for a moment, and then he spoke. "Molly...you are so intriguing to me. Ever since we ran into each other in the corridor, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I wish to know you better." He reached and grasped my hand. I quickly pull it away, partly scared, partly confused and partly infused with defiance.
"I haven't the slightest idea why you would want to mix with the likes of me. People like me deserve to starve to death, or at least that is how we are treated." I could see that he wanted to interrupt me, and I raised my hand to silence him. It was a risky move, but I couldn't let him stop me while my courage was at it's highest. "You royal folk are unaware of the suffering that goes on outside these walls. People die every day because they have nothing to eat, while you have enough food to feed them all! You expect us to fill your already filled treasury, when we have no way of earning enough money to provide for our needs! How could you wish to know me, you selfish, ravenous, murderous, heartless wretch!" My voice had escalated the whole while; my green eyes ablaze with fury. In the midst of the last words, I spun on my heels and stalked off. The Prince did not follow me, and it was a good choice on his part. I was ready to bite his head off. I was so relieved to get that off my chest after harboring it in my heart for several years. Yet I was distressed. I cried in regret. I didn't know why.
Several weeks later, the day of the long awaited All Invited Ball arrived. It was a royal ball that was held every five years and which everyone in the kingdom was invited, peasants and royalty alike. It was an event that no one ever missed. All that day, all the kitchen staff was busy at work preparing the glorious feast for that evening. The sight and aroma of the delectable food was enchanting to the senses. It would be a delicious banquet. After a lengthy day of preparation, all the kitchen servants were eager for a night of enjoyment. All the servants and slaves were free to go to the ball, except for the indentured slaves, who had to wash all the dishes first. I was the only indentured slave at that time, and I couldn't help but groan at the colossal pile of grimy dishes. I was comforted by the thought that since I had no desire to go to the ball, I would have more than enough time to clean without the urge to hurry through my work.
I was busily cleaning a grubby pot, when I heard someone enter the kitchen. I was concentrating on the pot, so I didn't look up to see who had come in. I assumed it was one of the kitchen staff returning from the party early. The person stood at the door awkwardly for a moment, but then I heard a brisk walk across the floor and the person stooped a few feet from me. Still scrubbing the pot, I still didn't look up. I could hear a dish being picked up and put in the tub of water. Finally I spoke, "You're back early."
"I came to apologize," a deep refined voice whispered.
I froze in mid brush. I knew that voice anywhere. It was the voice that had been haunting me for several weeks. I turned my head, and I saw him, Prince Aden, in his royal garb. He had his sleeves rolled up as he was washing the dish. It was probably one of the most shocking things I had ever seen. I was to utter something in my amazement, but he spoke before I could.
"Molly, before you say anything, let me say what has been resting on my heart. I am not like my father. I have despised his rulings for as long as I can remember. It has always been my desire to protect, provide and give to the poor. I have tried to convince my father of this for years, but he only cares about his well being. When I become king, I will do everything in my power to help those in need." He paused, and then continued. "I am not the person you think I am. I am sorry if my family hurt you, but I promise you that I will always honor you."
I was completely shocked. I would have never guessed that he would be so sympathetic to the destitute. Yet somehow I had always hoped that it would be true.
Prince Aden then stood up and offered me his hand. This time I took it. It was the first time since my mother was killed that I trusted someone completely. Still holding my hand, he led me out of the kitchen, down the corridor, and out into the garden. Still holding my hand, he whispered, "I was looking for you at the ball tonight. I was going to ask you to dance with me. One of the cooks told me you were still in the kitchen cleaning. Now that we have all our problems cleared up, it seemed fitting that…" He paused, then nervously asked, "May you honor me with a dance?"
I nodded. I must say for someone who has never danced in her life, I did well. I think mostly it was because I had finally freed my heart of fear. It was also because of my excellent dance partner. I knew with all my heart that I longed to know him better; dare I say I might have adored him, and wanted to love him. I think he felt the same way. Before I really knew what was happening, our lips touch and I enjoyed my first kiss, so sweet and tender. As we embraced, I felt a rain drop on my head, followed by several others. It was raining! For the first time in some many long years. It was a rain of hope, and I knew that in that moment there was hope for Ulania, and for me.