"Quinn, you have to wake up, now!" my cousin Zipporah of Hollyrose was shaking me into consciousness. "Quinnelynn of King's Reach and Daryl of Queenscove, wake up this instant!" Zipporah said as loudly as she dared to our roommate and me.
"Zippy, it's still dark out!" came Daryl's muffled voice from under her tousled blankets.
"No it's not, it's well past dawn," Zippy said as she threw open the drapes that had previously blotted out the early morning light. "Now, come on and get up," she ordered.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we'll be late for breakfast, that's why!"
"So?" prodded Daryl, dragging herself into a sitting position.
"So? So, First Daughter Dimelza will punish you two, if you do, well, just about anything, such as being late for a meal!" Zippy squawked, exasperated.
"Oh, and wouldn't that be a shame?" I asked, walking over to the closet and pulled out my uniform, a nauseatingly pink gown and white apron.
"Who cares? Daughter Dimelza punishes me and Quinn for breathing," Daryl added.
"That's no excuse to provoke her, just because you think you'll be punished anyway," Zippy reasoned.
"Sure it is! If we're going to be punished, we should at least get the most out of it," I argued.
"Guys! Let's go!" Zippy grabbed our arms and dragged us out the door as the morning bell rang it's annoying "You'll be late" warning. Two seconds before we entered the dining hall, the bell rang out it's "You are late," bell. Zippy dropped our arms and ran as fast as her ungainly legs could carry her to her place at one of the tables. Daryl and I, as usual, entered as leisurely as we pleased, delighted to see the displeasure on Daughter Dimelza's face, as she motioned us to her table.
"Queenscove! King's Reach!" she barked. "You are a disgrace to The Daughter's of the Wind convent school and it's instructors! As the head of this institution, it is my job to discipline you. You will go without breakfast this morning, for your disregard of the rule of being prompt to social occasions. Why, if you were at court you would immediately disqualify yourselves from any circle of standing."
Daryl and I rolled our eyes at each other; we had learned this speech well.
"Naturally, as would any sane person!" Daryl said pertly.
"I just pray to the Goddess that you do not act like this in front of the king!"
"We'll just tell him who our convent school teacher was," I replied.
"You two may go without lunch as well for your sarcasm! A proper lady is always demure and polite of tongue!" Dimelza informed us.
"With brains the size of yours, they can't be the sharpest swords in the armory, now can they?" Daryl asked sweetly. Dimelza's entire head seemed to turn red, from her neck to the band of her strict black headdress. We heard the girls seated behind us hide giggles and snorts.
"Young ladies! You are as rude as Scanrans, and I have little hope of rehabilitating you so that you may be introduced to polite society. I shall inform your parents of your behavior and hope that they may instill some sort of manners in you, as I have to obviously failed to do!" Dimelza yelled. I looked at Daryl, who nodded.
"A lady of nobility never raises her voice above the gentle hum of a babbling brook," we said in unison, mimicking Dimelza's way of saying this, which she did about 20 times a day.
"You will not eat at all day! Take your seats," Dimelza hissed. We curtsied, and stately walked to our table. Servants had already removed our place settings, as a signal of our being deprived of food. Our gang of friends that also sat with us was Bailey of Tasride, Regan of Nicoline, and Jenni of Jesslaw, along with Zippy.
"At this rate, you won't eat all week," Bailey commented, her near black eyes serious, as she pushed her black, shoulder length hair behind her ears.
"That was jolly! Did you see Daughter Dimwit's face?" Jenni giggled. Oh, and Daughter Dimwit is a common nickname for our beloved headmistress.
"Do you think she'll really write to your parents?" Regan asked, as she slipped a roll into my hand under the table.
"I don't see why not, she's done it four times already," Daryl answered.
"What do your parents tell her?" Jenni asked.
"Father thinks it's funny, Mother is convinced that I am just an energetic child who feels she must express her feelings with sarcasm. What about you, Quinn?"
"Like my parents care?" I asked. "My father thinks Daughter Dimwit is a pompous prude anyway," I used the words that my father had to describe her. "And my stepmother? I'm not her kid, why does it matter to her?"
My real mother died 3 and1/2 years ago, when I was 10. My father had remarried soon after, a trophy wife, as they were called. Trophy wives are when a man has already had a sensible, decent, middle-aged wife who bears and raises his children. Then, should something happen to that wife, the man takes a much younger women to be the lady of his estates, and is not expected to bear heirs. That's exactly what my stepmother Jolene is, barely 7 years older than me and as selfish and conceited as they come. She was the one who had sent me to the convent, to be rid of me as soon as she had moved herself and her household into our castle. She had my father totally wrapped around her fingers, whatever Jolene wants, Jolene gets. My brothers, all nine of them, were all already knights or in the process of becoming knights.
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Those two! Oh, they just make me so angry! Dimelza thought as she wrote letters to their parents in her grand flourish hand. First, to Daryl's father Duke Baird.
Dear Duke Baird,
As I have written before, your daughter Daryl is an uncontrollable child. I have never met with the likes of anyone so insolent, disobedient and unruly as your daughter and her main crony, Quinnelynn of King's Reach. I have bestowed all the punishments that I have at my disposal to no avail. She continues to be sarcastic, when a lady should be demure, and outspoken when a lady should be meek. She mocks the very system that women have followed for ages, and vexes her teachers to no end. I fear that she will never be a proper maiden; fit to be presented at court. I pray that you may instill some manners and decency in her. I am also afraid that her behavior will affect the other students to behave in a likewise manner. If this continues, I will seriously consider expulsion.
Sincerely,
First Daughter Dimelza
Dear Lord Hamrath,
I hope this will be the last time that I have to write you with concerns about your daughter. Quinnelynn is the most unruly, disobedient, and insolent girl, along with her friend Daryl of Queenscove that I have ever met. She troubles her teachers with sarcastic remarks when a lady should be sweet, and is outspoken when a lady should be meek. I fear she may never be fit to be introduced to suitable company, let alone the royal court. She and her friend have no fear of breaking rules, and do so on a daily basis. Perhaps you and your wife might instill some manners into her, as all the punishments I have tried were unsuccessful. I have truly never had such troublesome student, and may seriously have to consider expulsion.
Sincerely,
First Daughter Dimelza
That ought to do it, Dimelza thought with satisfaction.
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"Quinnelynn of King's Reach!" Daughter Brunhilda, the history teacher rapped her long metal rod against my wooden desk with a loud crack.
I sighed. "Yes, Daughter Brunhilda?"
"What did King Jasson do after his nobles rebelled?"
"Sent them to bed without breakfast, lunch or dinner?" I said sarcastically. Daughter Brunhilda's eyes twitched, the closest thing she could do to rolling her eyes.
"Daryl of Queenscove? Please be more enlightening than your classmate."
"He began to send them to convent schools as a torture with the threat of certain death by boredom," Daryl said with conviction. I saw Daughter Brunhilda's jaw clench. She turned to her ever correct, suck-up, know it all, favorite pupil and naturally our archenemy Beatrice of Stone Mountain.
"Beatrice? Do you know the answer?" Daughter Brunhilda simpered.
"Yes, madam, I do. King Jasson went on a grand progress and made his nobles pay for it so that they would not have the finances to rebel," Beatrice said sweetly.
"Thank you Beatrice. Now, I have a very important announcement to make."
"You are going to run away and join a group of traveling carnival people?" Daryl interrupted. "She'd make a great bearded lady," Daryl added quietly.
Brunhilda cleared her throat, saying huffily "Anyway, as you know King Jonathan has decided to go on a Grand Progress. And, (she takes a deep breath for dramatic purposes) several of your fathers have decided it has been time for you to be presented at court!" At this, the room was filled with the sound of shrieking girls jumping up and down, quite a hideous sound if you think about it. Quinn and Daryl rolled their eyes at each other.
"Oooh, I'll have to get a new wardrobe!"
"Do you think I'll find my husband?"
"Maybe I'll be a royal lady!"
Daughter Brunhilda cleared her throat. "Now, I have a list of those who have been sent for." The room went dead silent. "Lady Zipporah of Hollyrose." Zippy released a high-pitched squeal. "Lady Beatrice of Stone Mountain," who turned to smirk at us. "Lady Candace of Disart, Lady Genevieve of Tameran, Lady Gillian of Irenroha," she listed. "And," she continued with a grimace, "Goddess help us, Lady Quinnelynn of King's Reach and Lady Daryl of Queenscove."
A/N- Review!!! Thanks,
DaniSue