When we reached our manor, father told me to change into a clean dress. I ran upstairs to my room. I did not want anybody to see me in the dress I was wearing. It was all dirt-stained and ripped.

I pushed open my heavy bedroom door and ran to my bed. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows. The weather did not match my mood. In movies, it always rains when something bad happens.

My room looked just the same as it had when my mother was still living. The two comfy chairs were still under the two windows, the book case was next to them, overflowing with books. My bed with the flowered comforter was neatly made- thanks to Bertha, and the remote control rested on top of my television, which was turned off, making my room seem unusually quiet.

I did not want to go back downstairs and see all of the guests. I wanted to stay in my peaceful room, my sanctuary. However, I did not want father to be mad at me, I was already too sad. I went over to my closet and pulled out another black dress. I was about to put it on when I changed my mind. Black was too depressing. I wanted to wear a happier dress. Everybody was too depressed as it was. My mother would have hated it. Instead, I put on my dress that my mother liked the best. She said the spicy green brought out the color in my eyes. I thought I looked like a grasshopper in it-a skinny, spiky grasshopper with a human head and straight hair. But at least it wasn't black.

I went back downstairs to the great hall. It was inundated with people dressed in black, conversing with each other. My father came right to me, along with a rather large lady and two girls that I assumed were her daughters. The lady was wearing a tight black dress with a low neckline that looked like it was a couple sizes too small for her. She had pasty skin and two twin spots of rouge on each cheek, making her look like an obese china doll. She had curly hair that was done in an over-elaborate hair-do. Her eldest daughter was a smaller version of her, only without the rouge. The second daughter had an expressionless face and limp curls that looked like somebody had glued them to her head. Her dress did not fit her right. She was as bland as a peeled potato.

"Here is my daughter, Eleanor," said my father, pushing me towards the lady. I was all of the sudden engulfed in two chubby arms, and I could barely breath.

"My child! We feel for you, simply feel your pain!" said the lady, over exaggerating her vowels. I highly doubted they "felt my pain."

"This is Dame Olga," said my father, gesturing at this ridiculous lady. "Are these your daughters?"

"Yes, but of course! The two apples of my eyes! This is Hattie, and this is Olive. They are off to a special finishing school in a couple of weeks when summer vacation commences."

Hattie was older than I, by about two years. "Nice to meet you," she said smiling, revealing two large front teeth. She seriously needed braces.

"Me too," said Olive, who looked about my age. Her face made her look like she was permanently confused. She probably was.

"Why don't you take these two lovely girls to your room?" my father asked me. I obliged, trying to be polite.

As I led the way, I saw Hattie staring at everything in my house. Olive was just staring straight ahead.

"My mother said you were wealthy, but I did not know you were this well off!" awed Hattie. "Is it true you go to Everford Private school, the same one that the prince attends?"

"Umm.yes," I replied, blushing. We arrived at my room. As soon as we walked in, Olive set her eyes on the television.

"Can I watch TV?" she asked.

I was about to suggest doing something else, but Hattie interrupted me with a simple but sharp "No."

"Look," I said, "There is not anything to do up here anyway, why don't we just go back downstairs? There is a buffet set up." Olive's face lit up.

"Well," said Hattie, "We never eat at parties, on account of our small appetites, but our mother worries about us, so maybe just a little."

I led them to the buffet. They ate more than just a little. Hattie piled her plate with turkey, mashed potatoes, honey ham, rice, salad, and cookies. Olive took even more, plus some raspberry tarts and deviled eggs. They ate with their plates held close to their faces, so they could eat the maximum amount of food in minimum time.

I did not want to eat. I was too upset about my mother. Instead I looked at the floor. There was a beautiful carpet on the ground that I had never noticed before. Usually it was in my mother's study, but today it had been moved to the table. Stitched into it were hundreds of little flowers, and each flower was different. The colors were all vivid and it looked so real. I wondered where it came from.

When Hattie and Olive were done eating, they left with their mother, and I went to see Mandy in the kitchen. She was muttering something about people eating like pigs.

When she saw me, she asked, "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, Mandy. Everybody liked your cooking, by the way." Mandy's cooking was the best I had ever tasted. She was probably the best cook in all of Kyrria. You could follow a recipe just the way she did, and it still wouldn't taste the same.

"Umm.Mandy? I saw a really pretty rug in the dining room today. Where did it come from?"

"Oh, that thing. I actually made it quite a while back."

"You made it? Wow! I didn't know you make rugs." I was in awe.

"Oh, yes, well I didn't really like doing it, it takes too long. I only made that one."

"Mandy? How come you are so good at everything? I mean, your cooking is unbeatable, you make that medicine, and you made that rug! Why are you so perfect?"

"Well," said Mandy, as if she was going to tell me something important. "Never mind, you wouldn't believe me."

"What do you mean? Tell me! I will believe you!"

"Well, I wasn't going to tell you for a while, but I might as well tell you now." I was getting anxious. She continued. "I come from a race of people that are not magical, but we, we, how do I explain this? We learn to be gifted. We can do things better than other people, we learn to. Other people can cook, but we can make the food even more delicious. Other people can do all sorts of art, but we can make it even more beautiful. Doctors can find cures and penicillin and vaccines, but our medicine is the best."

At first I didn't believe her. But then I realized she was being perfectly honest. A thousand questions flooded my mind. "Can you do other things? What race is it? Where are the other people? How can you tell? Why did you let mother die?"

"One at a time! I cannot tell you the name of my race, and I do not know where any others are at the moment, but the way you can tell is that we have small feet. Secondly, I tried to save your mother, but she didn't take the medicine. And by the time I found out, it was too late." A tear formed in the corner of my eye. "Thirdly," she continued, "We can do other things, for instance, our five senses are extremely sharp. Here is a shard of glass from the glass that you broke yesterday." She picked up a piece of glass the size of a grain of sand.

I looked at my feet. "I have small feet," I said. "Am I gifted?"

"You have some of the blood in you, but its not enough," She replied. "You can't learn."

I collapsed onto a stool. Mandy was.gifted, and mother could have lived! It was too much for me to handle. Mandy came over to hug me. A tear landed on my shoulder. Mandy was crying too.

.:~*~:.

Well this is different, isn't it? Sorry this took so long to post! I went on vacation, and I was going to post this chapter the night before I left, but fanfiction wasn't working! Grrrr! It wasn't even working the next morning! Thank you for waiting! Thank you to all my reviewers, I appreciate it! Constructive criticism is very welcome!

Char is definitely going to be a prince. Other countries have princes, don't they? Also, if this story seems formal, that might be because I can only write formally! I hope this chapter is long enough for you! Its my longest yet - 3 pages! Ok, not that big of a deal, but still! Thank you for reading!