Chapter 1
Blind Man's Buff
Spring, eagerly awaited and only just arrived, has swiftly painted the handful of trees and shrubs scattered across the square bright with blooming flowers and budding leaves. The townsfolk all seem to have poured out of doors to bask in the first warm rays of the year. A dog runs past with a prize of juicy meat, to the loud protest of the plump butcher, who, rather than striving to catch the furry thief, merely shakes a fist at him.
Regina cheers for the shaggy pup. She sits perched on the rich velvet seat of the carriage, peering out from behind the lace curtains, wishing she were out there with the rest of the world. Mama told her not to get out and wait inside for her to return, so she's stuck inside, in the dark belly of the beast instead. That's the story she tells herself anyway, as it has a much more exciting ring to it than the dull carriage it really is. A leviathan. Or a whale, perhaps. Sometimes, it's a dragon. Either way, the beast is asleep now. Only Mama can wake it and command it, bend it to her will and make it do her bidding. The beast isn't harming Regina; it never does. It merely keeps her prisoner. Horrible things would happen if she were to try to escape its bottomless stomach, she muses.
She watches with narrowed eyes the door of the inn Mama disappeared in. Mama has been out of sight for a while now, the beast is asleep, and the day – oh so beautiful! Regina is starting to feel safe, or brave, or reckless. What harm can a little stroll do?
Her mind all made up, Regina swiftly jumps off the seat and throws the door open. She leans out, and looks left and right with sparkling eyes. The coachman turns his head at the sound of the door flying open, and meets her gaze. He knows he'd be expected to keep an eye on Regina but he is technically just a coachman, not a nursemaid. The dark-haired child smiles and winks at him, unsuspecting, trusting. The man can't but smile back at her. He will turn a blind eye to little Regina's endeavours: Lady Cora keeps a tight enough rein on her as it is, much too much so, he thinks. He winks back at her and turns away. Regina understands. They have a pact now, the coachman will not tell on her.
She climbs down one step, then jumps off triumphantly onto the dirt-covered square. She must remember to clean her shoes before Mama gets back, so she doesn't notice anything. Regina slinks around the carriage, lest she be surprised by some mighty enemy. One of the sleeping dragon's heads, for instance. Her heart sinks a little when she reaches the front even though she knew the horses would have been led into the stables to be fed and watered while Mama is attending to her business. This means they will be staying a while, which is good news for Regina now she has decided to fight her way out of the dragon's belly into the fresh spring day.
The square is full of life, much more so than from behind the curtain, Regina feels, and to Regina, everything is fascinating, most of all the people. They're coming and going, most of them minding their own business, never looking in the direction of the conspicuous luxurious carriage parked at the inn entrance. In truth, many cast a fleeting glance but turn away within a fraction of a second, never so much as slowing their pace or interrupting whatever activity they are pursuing. A man by the looks of a travelling merchant watches Regina jump across a puddle in the middle of the square and waves at her. Regina glows and waves back, accidentally dropping her hitched up skirt into the mud. The blacksmith next to the merchant frowns, leans over to him and whispers in his ear. The merchant's face falls. He gives Regina an odd sideways glance and turns away darkly. Regina's forehead wrinkles in a small frown, then she shrugs and turns back to the puddle, ready to jump back across. Her heart leaps.
There at the opposite end of the square near an old stone well, a bunch of children are playing. One of them has their eyes covered by a piece of rag and is groping, with outstretched arms, to catch one of the others, who in turn are avoiding the boy as best they can, shouting and laughing every time they manage a particularly skilful manoeuvre and slip just beyond his reach. Regina is just about to run up to them when Mama's voice echoes in her ear, as vivid as if Mama were really leaning to her from behind: "A lady doesn't run about foolishly. A lady must be graceful." Regina doesn't care much about being a lady but Mama seems to care a great deal, so Regina obeys most of the time just to make Mama happy. This time, however, Regina wants to be just like those other boys and girls over there, running and ducking and having fun. And Mama isn't there to see. Regina lifts the skirt of her dress slightly and runs the short distance to the other side of the square effortlessly. She stops abruptly in the midst of the shouting mass of children.
Nobody seems to notice her at first in the thick of the game. Then a small freckled girl with pigtails and a missing front tooth stops in her tracks and eyes her curiously, looking her up and down. "Hello," Regina said. "Hi," replied the girl, eyes open wide and staring first at Regina's periwinkle embroidered dress, then at her wrist. "Do you like my bracelet? I could give it to you if you like. My name is Regina. May I play with you, please?" At that, a bigger girl with a thick plait shows up suddenly and puts a protective arm around the small one. They both have the same freckles. "It's Lady Scary's kid!" the big girl hisses.
The other children freeze. The boy who was "it" yanks the cloth off his eyes. Regina looks them around, blinking once. "My Mama is Lady Cora. But she's not here now. She won't be coming for a while. I can be 'it'," she offers. The boy holding the ragged blindfold looks at the big freckled sister. She keeps staring intently at Regina and now her eyes acquire a strange glint. "We don't want no trouble," she says eventually. "We'll only let you play 'cos maybe Lady Scary would get wicked if we didn't…" The children all nod vigorously. Apparently, this Lady Scary is even more frightful than the dragon-carriage…oh. Regina stands quite motionless but surveys them all with keen eyes. "But we don't play with sissy lil' ladies," the boy with the rag speaks up, the adult word strange in his mouth. "I'm not!" Regina blurts out passionately. "She's not gonna catch us anyway," another girl peeps up, then gets bolder yet. "They don't play games like we play." "I'll beat you anytime," Regina says quietly. The big freckled girl steps up. "Let's make a deal. If you don't catch anyone, that thing on your wrist is ours," she challenges maliciously. "Fine."
Regina reaches for the rag. The boy moves behind her and ties it around her eyes so she can't see. "There," he says with satisfaction. The rough cloth bites and scratches at her face and weaves too tight around her forehead. Defiant, she fights the urge to adjust it. "Are you ready? I'm coming," Regina announces solemnly, giving them a chance to scatter. She starts turning in a slow circle, making up her mind about which way to go. All is quiet for a while. A moment later, when they finally pluck up the courage, the children start teasing, calling: "Oi, over here!", "Catch me if you can!", and even "Stinker, stinker!" in a cacophony of voices.
Regina keeps spinning cautiously, listening, waiting, lulling them into a false sense of safety. Suddenly she lashes out and comes inches from grabbing the big freckled girl, who ducks at the very last moment with a yelp. Regina loses her balance for a moment but regains it quickly enough. She starts to spin again. The children grow more cautious again. This is no ordinary game. "Lady Scary's baby lady!" comes a shrill cry from behind Regina. She whips around and lunges forward. Next thing she knows, she's lying face down in a pool of muddy water, the slimy mess warm and stale on her lips.
The children's laughter rings in her ears. She senses her face turning red with embarrassment. She feels around with her feet… There's a wooden plank nearby; she must have tripped over that. Regina's eyes burn and her hand flies to the blindfold instinctively. Then it lingers in mid-air, retreats back to the ground slowly, and Regina pushes herself up. She feels water dripping off her face and soaking into her dress. She holds her head high, her brow furrowed, her small mouth set.
The laughter dies out and complete silence falls. Regina can hear herself breathing. Perhaps she could hear them breathing too if she listens hard enough. She tries, and she hears, not the children's breathing, but a dull thud of wood on dirt somewhere to her left. She leaps forward on cue before the mocking voice has time to ensue. Successfully avoiding the trap, Regina waves her arms in front of her – and gets a handful of hair, a thick coarse plait. "Ouch! Gerroff me!" With a brief flash of triumph on her face, Regina lets go. She pulls the rag off her eyes and blinks in the sunlight.
The girl glowers at her hatefully, nursing her scalp where Regina pulled at the thick plait. Regina makes a tentative step towards her but the girl backs away. "Alright, you win. You always get what you want anyway, don't you! You're still just a spoilt stuck-up princess, and that's who you will always be! You ain't foolin' nobody!" Regina just stares back at her, puzzled, disbelieving. She makes another step towards the enraged girl. The air quickens as the children gasp as one. The girl turns pale. "Are you gonna have your Ma hurt me now? We know she is a wicked witch!" Regina's eyes glisten. She raises a hand to her wrist. She slides off her bracelet and wraps it in the rag she's still holding. "Here," she says softly, offering both to the little freckled girl with pigtails, who flinches in fear as Regina approaches her but accepts the bundle, retreating immediately. Regina's eyes return to the older sister: "…if you wanted it so much." She turns her back on them and breaks into a run, shouting over her shoulder: "And my Mama is not wicked!" She speeds off, her fists clenched and her hair flying in all directions, unaware where she is going. Just away from there, away from them, away from the beast's belly as well… Away.
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