AN: I'm eating gingerbread cookies, I'm eating gingerbread cookies. And
they aren't all that great, HEY! That was my song.
Home. This was to be our home for the next...God knows how long. It was small, smaller even than the apartment where we had lived with mother, but, then, it would be much easier to clean than the castle had been. Damn it! I had to stop thinking like that. I was no longer a domestic, and I would never let anyone call me that again, much less would I act like one.
The guards' cabin was about a hundred yards away, and surrounded by a thick hedge, making it hardly visible. I suppose the queen's plan was to make us forget they were there, hoping we would reveal some key piece of information about the murder of her son.
We were to be watched like animals in a zoo. By killing Frank, we had hoped to gain freedom, and by killing Frank, we had lost it. Irony seemed to be thick here, and I could see it would slap me in the face every time I looked out and saw the hedge, hiding so poorly the guard's cabin.
Would Riff think of another dark plan? How long would these guards last? Another thought entered my mind. Within the past year, my brother had murdered three people who had gotten in the way of him. Columbia and Rocky had done nothing, other than being associated with Frank, they were relatively innocent. What would it take for Riff to turn against me? I couldn't imagine it would take much, judging by the others. Yes, he loved me, and he would protect me against anything, but did that include protecting me against myself?
I was being silly. Riff would never hurt me, I was his sister. He loved me. I looked at him as he surveyed the building where we would live, as I had been doing, before I got distracted. Walking over to him, I circled him in my arms, standing on my toes and resting my chin on his shoulder. He grabbed my hands, turning his head to my cheek as though to kiss me. Instead, he whispered one phrase: "Don't speak of it."
"Of course not,' I breathed back, barely audibly. Of course not.
Home. This was to be our home for the next...God knows how long. It was small, smaller even than the apartment where we had lived with mother, but, then, it would be much easier to clean than the castle had been. Damn it! I had to stop thinking like that. I was no longer a domestic, and I would never let anyone call me that again, much less would I act like one.
The guards' cabin was about a hundred yards away, and surrounded by a thick hedge, making it hardly visible. I suppose the queen's plan was to make us forget they were there, hoping we would reveal some key piece of information about the murder of her son.
We were to be watched like animals in a zoo. By killing Frank, we had hoped to gain freedom, and by killing Frank, we had lost it. Irony seemed to be thick here, and I could see it would slap me in the face every time I looked out and saw the hedge, hiding so poorly the guard's cabin.
Would Riff think of another dark plan? How long would these guards last? Another thought entered my mind. Within the past year, my brother had murdered three people who had gotten in the way of him. Columbia and Rocky had done nothing, other than being associated with Frank, they were relatively innocent. What would it take for Riff to turn against me? I couldn't imagine it would take much, judging by the others. Yes, he loved me, and he would protect me against anything, but did that include protecting me against myself?
I was being silly. Riff would never hurt me, I was his sister. He loved me. I looked at him as he surveyed the building where we would live, as I had been doing, before I got distracted. Walking over to him, I circled him in my arms, standing on my toes and resting my chin on his shoulder. He grabbed my hands, turning his head to my cheek as though to kiss me. Instead, he whispered one phrase: "Don't speak of it."
"Of course not,' I breathed back, barely audibly. Of course not.