Serena Ryen had been blind from birth. She had never minded. One of her favorite ways to connect with people was to have them describe what they saw to her… she had no way of painting an accurate picture in her mind, but she would listen to their words and feel the blissful way they slid across her ears and figures it was as good, if not better, than seeing with the eyes.
The Persians knew all about Serena and her unfortunate disability. They had arrived in the little town of Rouen, France, and seen the beautiful young girl with her hair of fire and immediately set their sights on finding out more about her. She was meek, gentle, musical, and, best of all, orphaned. They did not know what had happened to her parents; they couldn't ask without alerting the suspicion of the townspeople. She was the town's pet, of sorts, like the shah's prized Siamese cat. Everyone took turns taking care of their poor, blind prodigy who had to walk with her hands out before her, but otherwise she had no family connections who would search the ends of the earth to find her…
Serena had never found it relevant to ask anyone what she looked like, considering the words, descriptions, and phrases she often heard used to describe the physical attributes of people were at a loss to her in her never having seen the color blue or what symmetrical, stunning features made a person "attractive". But if she had, he or she whom had been asked would have smiled and described her pale, smooth, flawless skin and long auburn hair which tumbled down her shoulders like some sort of perplexingly captivating liquid fire. She had lips like rose petals, often parted in one of the most beautiful, contagious smiles the small world she lived in had ever known. And though her eyes were clouded with film and darting like a paranoid's though nothing they perceived, they were a lovely, icy blue that was nearly hypnotizing to those who caught her visionless glance.
She was proud to call herself educated despite her condition. Before they had passed, her parents had always brought her volume after volume of special books for the sightless—Greek mythology, Roman classics, gothic favorites, fairytales: it seemed to them that nothing could sate their curious daughter's yearning for knowledge for long. They taught her to read as they would have any other child; they simply used braille letters and phrases instead of A's, B's, and C's. And the more she learned, the farther she advanced… the more they wished to test her, to see where her limits fell when, with the way she improved each and ever day, it seemed that she had none. So, they tried a little experiment with braille and the piano…
Needless to say, it quickly became Serena's favorite pastime. And through it, she just as swiftly earned the rest of the town's love… children would come and sit by her window and elderly tenants would hum along to familiar tunes as they heard her playing as they passed by. But then her parents passed, and she was left a young, blind girl all alone with no one left to help her stumble from her bed to the piano. It was then that the townspeople met and assigned her fosters, of sorts—people to come to the house daily, switching off on a weekly basis—to ensure that she got all the help that she needed, and several midwives even taught her how to function independently through nothing but touch and sound. She had defeated all odds and prejudices against her since she had been a small child, and consequently became a beacon for the town: an inspiring tale they crawled to like moths to a fire.
The longer they stayed, observing, the more the Persians realized that not only was this particular girl blind—perfect for one to face the horrors of their domestic, corpse-like monster—but she was fully functional in everything from making tea to turning out beds and cleaning an entire house top to bottom. She was sightless but not helpless and handicapped; already a housewife, but unmarried and pure. The only hitch they could find was the townspeople's constant pestering of her; she had learned so much from those special, imported books of hers that people often came to her with ailments of their families, problems and disputes for her to settle, and the like. She was like some sort of royal of the city: a sacred high priestess whom they now had to extract unnoticed. Their chance came on one of the Christians' holidays…
Everyone else was already at the town mass. She was running late, having misplaced her cloak. They took her as soon as she had stepped outside.
And over the joyous blaring of the organ, like some overly-perky relative of the dark, twisted music she would hear from the shadowed, musical mind of her intended, no one heard her scream.
A/N: So everyone… meet Serena. Beautiful, blind, French girl who also happens to be one of the wisest, most gifted, and adept people in her town— girl born with a handicap in addition to some exceptional talents including a penchant for music and gaining new knowledge… sound like anyone we know?!
Seems after months (and yes, that's the timeframe here if it's not clear… you couldn't just express order a wife in those days…) of tireless searching as a result of the Shah's threatening of their families, his WifeScouts have found the perfect gift for Erik. But will she be as perfect as they think?
Next chapter will be longer; these short, daily ones are just to get the ball rolling before I start releasing longer chaps on a weekly basis. And stick around, because that same next chapter will include Serena's difficult journey to Persia: all in her point of view! Not this strange half-hers-half-Persians-and-yet-still-in-the-third-person approach I took here—well, you get my point.
Enjoy, my lovelies! R&R, let me hear your beautiful voices! (Inside my miiiindddd…) :D
~DonJuana
