Girl in the Shadows
I was born in the shadows. Raised in a cold and musty chamber within the castle walls, never to be seen by its inhabitants. Only he knows that I exist. Nostradamus. He is the only who brings me food and water. He is the one who cares for me and tends to any injuries I might have.
He is my protector and my punisher. When I am good, he talks to me, tells me about the outside world and sometimes brings me treasures to keep. When I am bad, he locks me up in a cage. He rants and raves about the terrible things I have done, and vows not to ever let me out.
Those are the times I fear the most. I hate being locked up, forced to sleep on a cold floor, eat only scraps of bread, and drink stale water. I wonder if it is where I will die, and I sometimes I cry myself to sleep.
Soon his anger at me fades away, and he releases me from the cage. I am so thankful to be out of it, that I vow to never do anything to make him mad at me again.
I refrain from ever voicing aloud my complaint that he is the one who has taught me to lie and to hide and to spy. I know that it will only get me into trouble if I say anything to him.
I know things that would have men and women alike to be countries would go to war over. However, my knowledge of these things are useless as no one would believe the ramblings of a girl who lives in the shadows.