Kürdchen's Hat
You smile up at the girl who is standing in the middle of the crowd of squawking geese. She stutters awkwardly and says her name is Jema and that she was sent by his majesty to help care for the geese and she's not really sure what she's supposed to do and she's very sorry if she's in the way. You tell her that's all right.
After a bit she sits down next to you, takes off her hat, unbraids her long, golden hair and begins to brush it. You watch her movements, slow and precise, and her shimmery hair, flowing about her shoulders. It's such pretty hair, you think, as pretty as the rest of her is, and there's so much of it. Surely she won't miss a little bit. So you start forward with a pair of shears to cut off a lock but she gasps and causes the wind to blow your hat away so that you have to chase after it furiously. Finally, the wind slows, and you grab your cap and go back to where Jema is sitting, watching the geese. Her hair is back under her cap.
It becomes a game between the two of you. Every day, she brushes her hair, and you try to cut some off but before you can she summons up the wind. You don't care so much about getting her hair as you do about the contact, the playing and the laughing and the breathlessness. You don't watch the geese so much after this little routine, preferring to study the solemn expression on her face as she makes sure no goose goes astray, the way she bites her bottom lip subconsciously and twines her fingers together. Wisps of gold hair fall out of her cap by the end of the day, and they float around her face. The sinking sun catches a matching gold in her brown eyes and you look up, startled, and realize it's the end of the day.
One day, after chasing your hat wildly, you return to where Jema is sitting, flushed and breathing heavily. You grab her hands and pull her to her feet and she looks at you, confused. You grin and lean forward, brushing your lips against hers. She blinks at you, startled. You sit and watch the geese and after a moment she sits down too and slips her hand in yours. The geese squawk and waddle around you and you both ignore them.
This is the new routine.
This is the new plan. Jema tells you that the prince's wedding is to take place today, and you say yes, you know that. You don't much care; he isn't taking the throne yet, and really, the queen hardly ever has any impact over what happens. But she looks confused, and wistful and you don't know why. You both sit and watch the geese, but something isn't quite right and you just can't stand it. Then the end of the day comes and you start to go and Jema grabs you and kisses you, hard. "This is the new plan." She whispers, fiercely. "This is what my life is now. I don't care why I came here originally, this is what I want."
You look at her, and you don't quite understand except you do. Somehow, it doesn't matter that princes are getting married and geese are squawking and hats are blowing away because this is it. This is the plan. This is the plan: there isn't one.