Title~ Uvumi, Patience
Author~ Lady Sandry
Summary~ This is just a reeeaally short vignette that popped into my head. It's in Sandry's POV, and this is set before Circle of Magic. Her parents are still alive, and she has no idea she has magic. A part of Sandry's Book always struck me, when Sandry is talking to Daja about why she wants to befriend Tris. I wanted to explore that. This really has no plot, it's just a state of mind piece.
Disclaimer~ Sandry, and all of the Circle of Magic World belong to the wondrous Tamora Pierce, as does the word Uvumi, which is Tradertalk for patience. I am making no money off this piece, it's just for fun. Please don't sue me, I'm a poor high school student and you won't get much.
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"I am one of noble blood. I am Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, daughter of Count Mattin fer Toren and his countess, Amiliane fa Landreg. I am the great niece of his grace, Duke Vedris of Emelan, and cousin of her Imperial Highness, Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire. Impressive list isn't it? I am nearly royalty. And I hate it.
I have no friends, nobody to talk to, to tell my secrets. I love my parents dearly, but we travel constantly, and every time I start to make some progress, we're off again. And to be honest, I don't even like the noble girls at the estates we visit. They smile daintily and never raise their voices, or talk about anything interesting. Why does being a noble lady require you to be boring? And the others, the merchants and workers in the town? Their daughters aren't wild to speak to me either. Nobles, or "bags" as I heard one boy call us, are largely despised by the lower classes. I don't blame them. I rather despise us myself.
Pirisi, my nurse, used to be the one I could talk to. Really talk, I mean, not the idiotic simpering that passes for conversation among girls of my station. She used to let me help her with her spinning too, but now she says I am becoming a lady, and it is time to leave such things behind. I cannot speak even to her of my thoughts anymore, because she looks worried and sad when I do. I have no wish to cause her pain.
My mother is calling now. "Sandrilene," she says, "It's time to go, darling, and the carriage is waiting." And the never-ending cycle of my life starts afresh. But not forever. I have to hope it is not forever, or I would not be able to get up each day. Someday, I will find a place where I can be who I truly am. Not the Lady Sandrilene fa Toren. Sandry. It will happen someday. I just have to wait, and practice uvumi. Patience.
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