Chapter 4: Auberta
On the day the prince was due to visit, true to my word, I spent my morning in the stables with Beryl, figuring that Lucille would die before entering the stable with its somewhat musty smell and noisiness. But I was wrong. As I lounged on the hay, teasing Beryl with a bit of straw, I heard shrill laughter and footsteps. As the footsteps grew louder, I hid myself in the straw, knowing that only Lucille could have such a high-pitched laugh.
As I finished burrowing into the hay stack, I heard the stable doors creak open and Lucille enter with the prince.
"—and tripped into the fireplace. It was the most hilarious thing that ever happened." Lucille was saying. She laughed again as if to prove her point.
Derek gave a forced laugh.
"Enough about her." Lucille said. "I though maybe we could go riding today. I absolutely love horses, you know." I stifled a snort. Lucille hated horses. She thought they were smelly, noisy, and left hair on her dress.
Derek seemed dubious about her claim also, but was quick to hide it. Lucille beckoned for Derek's guard to saddle his horse while one of the stable boys saddle the horse of her choice, Hotspur. I scorn her poor choice. Hotspur is a beauty, that much is true, but he is also frisky and volatile, especially with a strange rider. The stable boy tried to warn Lucille of the horse's temperament, but Lucille waved him aside and ordered him to continue.
Five minutes later, Lucille and Derek rode away. I uncovered myself from the hay and wandered to the willow tree that was my place of solace. Unfortunately, Lucille was there also. Luckily, I could not be seen from behind the willow branches.
Lucille had trying to prove to Derek her superior riding skills, but found that the pink silk dress she bought especially for this occasion was slippery on the sidesaddle. As a result, she was slowly slipping off the saddle. She dug her heels into Hotspur's side and often used the reins to pull herself back onto the saddle. With each yank, the bit dug itself deeper into Hotspur's tender mouth and he, already agitated with his rider's constant motion, became nervous and panicky. As a result, his gait grew bumpy and caused Lucille's dress to slip further, thus continuing the chain reaction.
Derek seemed to have noticed the silent struggle, but showed no signs except for an enlarged gap between him and Lucille as they rode in the meadow. Finally, Lucille, dangerously slipping off the saddle but trying to stay on by pulling harder than ever on the reins, realized that all hope of impressing Derek had evaporated and tried a different ploy. She jerked suddenly on Hotspur's rein and dug the heel of her shoes into his side. He reared in surprise and pain. As he teetered on his hind legs, Lucille dropped the reins and slid neatly to the ground, all the while screaming for help. Derek rushed over and comforted Hotspur who calmed as soon as the pressure on his reins ceased.
Meanwhile, Lucille had collapsed in a heap on the ground and was crying piteously. When Derek bent to see what was wrong, she threw herself onto his chest and wrapped her arms around him.
"Ttthat hhorse." She said between sobs. "Hhe just suddenly went ccrazy." She broke out in tears again. Derek handed her a handkerchief. She wiped her tears and continued. "It was all so fast. I'm so scared. I don't want to ride him back, Prince Derek. Please don't make me ride him." Lucille collapsed in his arms in another sobbing fit. I understand her plan now. She was trying to force the prince to offer to take her back on his horse with him. That was an underhanded attempt to gain the prince's affections. Derek did not reply. He only patted her back awkwardly.
To Lucille's dismay, Hotspur, having been ignored during Lucille's outburst, sensed that I was near and was now nudging me from my hiding place under the willow tree. An unlucky turn of events. As much as I spitefully wished that Lucille's date would go wrong, I can't help but cringe at the tantrum she would throw later now that she could accuse me of spying and I could not deny the evidence. Nevertheless, I am glad to see Hotspur. Derek seemed happy to see me too, for he invited me to ride back to the manor with him and Lucille. I declined the offer; Lucille's face promised consequences if I did. Lucille got her wish and rode back with Derek on his horse; she clung to him so tightly the only choice he had was to deposit her on his horse, although, judging from his carefully concealed facial expressions, Derek did not favor her clinginess. Poor Derek, being the perfect diplomat has its downsides.
Later that evening, I snuck back to the manor, hoping to make a quiet entrance, but Lucille was waiting for me in the hallway.
"ARI!" She shrieked as soon as she caught sight of me.
I cringed at the noise and faced her, smiling sweetly. "Yes?" I asked quietly.
Lucille marched up to me and slapped me across the cheek. I clutched my cheek, not in pain as much as in surprise.
"HOW DARE YOU! AFTER I WARNED YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"
"I didn't exactly walk up to him and interrupt the date."
"YOU WERE SPYING ON US, TRYING TO FIND AN OPPORTUNITY TO BUTT IN!" Lucille accused. I didn't try to correct her views. She wouldn't believe me anyways and the evidence was apparent. "DON'T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT!"
"Believe what you want to believe." I said quietly.
"THE PRINCE IS MINE!"
"That's for the prince to decide."
"YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO STEAL HIM FROM ME!"
"It's kinda hard to steal what you don't have. And I'm not interested." That was a completely lie. I admit I find him somewhat attractive. Clear green eyes, tousled blond hair that was just the right length . . .
"WELL STAY AWAY FROM HIM! I FORBID YOU EVER TO SEE HIM AGAIN!"
"I'll stop arranging secret meetings with him behind your back." I said sarcastically.
Lucille sputtered, and then stomped away angrily. As she left, I noticed Hanna, Yvette, and Beth listening in on the conversation. Hanna was shaking her head with a slight smile on her face. Beth looked torn between amusement and astonishment. Yvette looked utterly shocked.
"Don't ask." I told them, heading for my duties in the kitchen. "She's just on one of her rampages." Hanna and Beth grinned as I brushed past.
A week later, I was sent to the market for food. Beryl decided to accompany me. She wandered at my heels as I shopped, amazed at the noisy bustling streets.
"I've never seen so many people. And behaving in such a way." She confided in me.
"Didn't you live in the palace?" I asked her.
"Of course I did." She said. "But the people are always polite and well-bred. I've never seen such behavior." Beryl nodded to man who was yelling at a young dirty boy who ran down the street clutching an apple. The man remained me of the creepy shopkeeper that sold me the butterfly pin. He had the same dirty clothes and hairy arms, but was less disgusting. The man was cursing and making rude gestures at the boy, who had, by now, dissolved into the crowd.
"I see what you mean." I answered after a moment. I had never noticed such behavior, rather, I was always aware of them, but never paid any attention to them. I had grown up in this kind of environment. This was what I considered normal. It was kind of depressing, actually. I am a duke's eldest daughter, and an heiress to boot. I should be growing up with champagne and balls, not wandering unchecked in a world of day old hardened bread and dirty streets. But I'm not going to mourn my fate. I cannot change my past, but I can ensure my future. I have thought of running away, but dismissed the notion as rash. Where would I go? What would I live on? If maybe I can buy time until I'm eighteen and legally old enough to hold property and then find some way to prove my claim. . .
I snapped back to reality when a cheerful blond head appeared in my vision spectrum.
"Hey, Derek." I said.
"Hello, Ari." He replied. He fell in step with me. Two of his customary guards were trailing him, looking somewhat amused.
"This is Beryl." I said, nudging the cat gently with my foot. She meowed in complaint.
"She's pretty." Derek remarked. "Lovely fur." Beryl forgot her former grievances and basked in his admiration. A minute later, she strayed ahead. Derek and I walked silently for a minute.
"Did you enjoy your visit to the manor last week?" I asked cautiously, breaking the silence.
"Your lands are vast and beautiful." Derek replied courteously. "But as for the visit and company, I'd have to say no. Between you and me, Lucille is pulling on my last nerve." His voice here turned honest.
"She's a terror all right." I said.
"Undoubtedly." He agreed amicably. "She's too clingy."
"Shouldn't you be used to that? Seeing as how half the female court's in love with you." I felt brave enough to tease.
"Only half?" Derek mimicked a sorrowful face. "But you're right. I should be used to that by now. But Lucille's one of the worst."
"Seeing as how she schemes and dreams, I believe you."
'That horse trick she pulled last week? sly." He said. How observant. I wasn't sure he had noticed.
"Actually, I think the Thelma girl was more devious." This remark came from one of Derek's guards.
"You mean Teresa? Of Nynna?" Derek corrected him.
"Whatever." The guard replied, waving aside the comment.
"Oh, you mean the teacup trick!" The other guard piped in.
"Oh no!" Derek moaned.
"Yes! That one." The first guard cried triumphantly. "The girl spilled boiling tea on him so she could make him take off his shirt. He walked away embarrassed and frightened, but at least he still had his shirt, with a big stain on it."
Derek covered his face with his hands, but he was smiling good-naturedly.
"Or the time at the ball with that one girl." The second guard declared.
"Oh no. That was horrible!" Derek cried. "Don't say it, Ortizo."
But the man referred to as Ortizo rambled on despite his prince's order. "He was dancing with her at his sixteenth birthday ball, and she knocked his hand down her back so it'd look like he was trying to feel her up. Everyone noticed and rumors were flying."
Derek didn't look at all angry that his guard had disobeyed his order. On the contrary, there was a smile on his incredibly red face. "Must you bring up the worst of them?" He asked half-heartedly.
The first guard thumped him on the back. "But they're so amusing."
"For you, maybe." Derek said. "People weren't coming up to you and asking for engagement dates months afterwards. And those knowing winks I had to endure!"
At this remark, both guards burst out in affable laughter. Before long, Derek and I had joined them. Slowly the conversation drifted from one topic to the next. The guards, Ortizo and Rameses were incredibly good natured and, with them, Derek shed his courteous mask. Gradually, Derek and I slipped ahead, while the guards lagged behind until they were out of earshot.
The conversation suddenly stopped and uncomfortable silence replaced it. "Um, Ari?" Derek said uncomfortably after a moment.
"Hmm?"
"Uh, my sister and brother are having a birthday party day after tomorrow. It's going to be small one, with just a few of their closest friends. My parents want me to baby sit, and I was wondering if you would, uh, come with me. As a friend. Just to help me control the children."
I found it strange that the maids could not help care for the children, but I said yes anyways. Derek looked immensely relieved. A short silence followed. "So I'll see you at ten in the morning?" Derek said.
I nodded.
"That's great. Bye." Derek beckoned to the men who were watching us with amused expressions on their faces. I watched them walk away. When I was out of earshot, one of the guards, Ortizo, said something to the prince. Derek shook his head and blushed. He stole a glance back at me from the corner of his eye. The other guard said something and Derek turned his back to me.
Shaking my head, I hurried home. Beryl reappeared at my heels, having wandered off. She was not her loquacious self. She was tired, no doubt. I myself was tired from today's excitement. Why had I agreed to attend the birthday party? What would I wear? I couldn't wear my maid's shift. How could I sneak out and attend the party without Helga's knowledge?
I had arrived at the manor. I snuck in through the kitchen door and, knowing that I would be yelled at if Helga discovered me coming home later, hoped feverishly that no one was present. Luck was with me that day. Only Hanna was there, busily stirring a steaming pot. She nodded to me as I placed the basket of groceries and winked as I slipped out. Let her think I was out with some peasant boy. It didn't make a difference. I had more on my mind. To be frank, I never really liked children. I certainly don't hate children. My opinion towards them is more like indifference. Children and I just never connected. I would be a horrible nursemaid. Children are always saying something incoherently. They'd go up to me and whisper something in my ear or wave in my face a roughly drawn picture and I wouldn't have a clue what was going on. I'd just nod and smile and walk away. I try to act sweet and kind, but my act always seems fake somehow and I can't understand children when they speak, but causes somewhat of a problem. I can't connect with children. I can't have a conversation with them. I just don't know what to say around them. And I'm a nervous wreck around crying children. It's so awkward when I try to comfort them and I just end up with a headache. I like sweet quiet children, but loud and bossy ones? I can't deal with that. More urgent than my dislike of children was my dress, or lack of, and an excuse for taking half the day off. For this, I consulted good old reliable Togalo.
"I could pretend to send you off somewhere for half the day." He offered. "But that would still leave the problem with the dress."
I was suddenly stuck with inspiration. "Just arrange the trip, Togalo. Leave the dress to me."
That night, during dinner, I snuck into Lucille's closet. She had an immense closet; it was probably bigger than that little cubicle I call my room. Lucille had an overwhelming amount of dresses. I snuck to the end of the closet, where there was another closet within a closet. In here Lucille kept dresses that she outgrew, or did not like. I opened door and began to finger through the dresses. Most of the dresses truly were hideous, but I found one I liked shoved in the very back. It was a pastel pink sundress made of a soft silk. The dress was sleeveless with a hem that was cut slanted from knee to mid thigh and had a flare to it. It had little decorations, except for a soft sprinkle of glitter on the skirt and a few well placed silk flowers. While Lucille hated it for its simplicity, it was perfect for my purposes.
Draping the dress over my arm, I quietly snuck out of Lucille's room and raced to my tower. There, I slipped on the dress and admired myself in a mirror I had scavenged. The dress was rather high cut, another reason Lucille hated it, but I was going to a child's birthday party, not looking for a suitor at a ball. The waist was incredibly small. Lucille was never able to fit comfortably into it, but I could, thanks to several years of meager meals, courtesy of Helga.
Satisfied, I slipped off the dress and tucked it into a cardboard box under my bed. Lucille would never notice that it was missing. She never checked the dresses in that closet. I was only borrowing it for two nights after all. And besides, it was so old Lucille probably wouldn't recognize it if she saw me wearing it.
The next morning, Lucille pulled me aside. For once I was fearful. I thought she had discovered the dress was missing. But it turned out Lucille was just drooling over Derek again.
"Ari." Lucille snarled. "I've invited the prince over again today. I told you last time to disappear, but you just couldn't stay away. This time, I am personally making sure you never come in contact with him. If you disobey me, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?"
"Yes." I replied. For once in my life, there was no hint of sarcasm in my voice. Lucille was deadly serious about her threat. I was beginning to regret going to the party. Just a little. Just for a moment.
True to her word, half an hour before Derek was due to arrive, Lucille personally saw me to my room and slammed the door in my face. She added a personal touch: a large padlock. I didn't count on that. Lucille would probably pretend ignorance and leave me up here out of spite. The manor and grounds were large enough that the few servants would not be perturbed if I was missing for hours, and maybe even a day or two.
Slightly irked by the lock, not as much by the prospect of dying of hunger because I could always scale the walls or screech out the window after Derek left but by this show of power, I decided to spy on Lucille. She had accused me of the crime last week and now I was only fulfilling it.
I climbed out my window and on to the roof in the same way which I access Hank's nest. Hank heard the noise and clambered out of his doghouse. He took one look at me and sighed wearily. "What are you up to now, Ari?" He said.
"Lucille locked me in my room." I replied simply.
"And now you want revenge by spying on her." Hank finished. He knew me too well. Hank settled beside me where I lay down, sticking my head over the roof top. Five minutes later, the Derek and his two bodyguards arrived on horseback. Lucille was waiting at the door. As soon as he halted to a stop, she rushed up, said something, and started giggling. Typical. Derek smiled but did not say anything in reply. The conversation continued like this for a couple of minutes as the stable boys came and led the horses away. Then Lucille, grasping Derek's arm firmly, led he to the side of the house, glaring at the bodyguards as if to warning them from interfering. Ortizo and Rameses rolled their eyes behind her back. It seems they didn't care much for their master's new companion. The bodyguards followed the pair, keeping a certain space between them and the couple. It was not as much as Lucille wanted, however, because she kept glaring at them. Indeed, the space they allowed was much less than when I met Derek yesterday. It ensured that Lucille and Derek would have no privacy. I suspect Ortizo and Rameses did this on purpose. They seem like the kind of people who thinks an angry Lucille is comical. I crept slowly rooftop, following the couple.
"Wait!" Hank cried. I stopped, but it was too late. I had wandered onto a crumbling ledge. The cement collapse under my weight and I felt the ground beneath me disintegrate. I dropped for a split second, but then stopped. I was surprised. I had expected the ground to be farther down. Looking around, I realized that I was not on the ground, but had landed on another section of the roof. I held my breath and waited in silence for a moment. A shrill voice continued steadily. I let out my breath. Lucille had not heard the falling pieces of cement. I looked around. The roof was such a rough terrain. It had peaks and gorges, plateaus and basins. The part I landed on was about 10 feet below the rest of the roof. It was probably the roof to the kitchen. The kitchen was a square attached to the rest of the house similarly to how a small cube is attached to a larger cube. Thus the shape of the house is a square with a wart on its side. The roof of the kitchen is shaped like the roof of the main house, but the black stuff that covered it was not at all connected with the black stuff that covered the rest of the house. I hid behind the chimney and glanced at the retreating backs of the couple. Derek and Lucille went on unaware, but the two bodyguards were looking around. Then, one of the them spotted me and winked. I grinned sheepishly and ducked my head.
Hank flopped down beside me in an ungraceful heap. "You almost gave me a heart attack." He panted.
"Sorry."
"Never mind. How do we get up back up?" I looked up. The ledge was about ten feet up. There was no way I'd be able to climb vertically.
"I can climb back into the manor through this window." I said, pointing to a window besides Hank. Scooting forward, I pushed upward on the glass. The window wouldn't budge. Hank came and tried to help as much as he could. Finally, the window creaked open. Hank and I tumbled in.
We landed in a small room. The walls were filled with replete bookcases. Mismatched furniture was placed in the room, with several chests on the floor. No one had been inside the room for years, for there was a thick blanket of dust on everything.
I stood up and dusted off my clothes. Hank flew around the room to investigate. His wings blew the dust into the air. "Hank!" I cried.
"Sorry." He said sheepishly.
I smiled to assure him that I forgave him. While wandering the room, I spotted a book lying on the table. I pulled out a chair and sat down.
"What's that?" Hank asked, hopping over.
"Diary." I said. I opened the book. The first page was filled with a child's messy handwriting. "Dear Diary." I read aloud. "I am Auberta Marie Kingsford." I stopped. Auberta Marie Kingsford was my mother. I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I read on. "I got you for my fourth birthday. My mommy and daddy gave you to me. They said every young girl should have a diary to record her daily thoughts So I'm going to tell you everything. I am here with my mommy and daddy at my auntie's house. I like her house. Her son Charlie is here. He is adopted." The diary went on to explain who Auberta had found this room and decided to make it her secret playroom. Looking around, it did seem like a child's playroom, but the toys were neatly placed on a shelf as if they had long gone out of use. I turned back to the book. Auberta wrote daily for about two months. Then she said she left to go back to her manor. A year later, she came back for the summer. This continued for years. Then, when Auberta was 12, she left her family for Winston's Academy for Women. I had heard of the place. It taught women domestic duties and prepared them for marriage. Many women who graduated from that academy went on to marry rich and high-ranking men. It was nearly impossible to enroll. They only accepted the best and prettiest.
Auberta returned when she was 16. Now her handwriting was as neat as a typewriter's. Her letters had a flourish in each of them that I was never able to develop. She wrote about her delight at her aunt's adopted son's transformation since she had been gone and about her secret crush on him. For six months she faithfully recorded every word he spoke to her, every look he cast her way, and every deed he did for her. Finally he had asked her to a ball. On the night of the ball, Auberta wrote on a tear stained page that wine had spilled on her new dress, to her embarrassment. She was in tears when she wrote the entry, sure that Charles, as he was now called, would be ashamed to seen with her in public and that all her chances with him had been ruined. However, Charles did not seem to mind because, a year later, he proposed to her. Her last entry was dated right before her wedding. She was ecstatic and left the dress in a chest in the secret room was a reminder of her first date with Charles. I looked around for the dress. I spotted a closed chest in the corner of the room. Putting the diary down, I walked over and tried to open the lid. It was stuck. I pushed and shoved at the lid and, finally, I was able to pry open the chest. Inside, neatly folded was a pile of pastel pink material. I carefully took out the dress and unfolded it. As I shook it, two glass objects dropped from inside the folds. I stared open-mouthed in horror and the objects continued in their crash course to the floor. When they landed, I expected an explosion of glass shards, but instead, they simply clinked when they touched the ground. I picked them up. They were slippers, made completely of glass. Not a crack had formed from the fall.
"Try them on." Said Hank, breaking the silence. Obeying his command, I slipped the shoes onto my feet. They fit perfectly. I walked cautiously in them. They made small clicking sounds on the floor and did not break. More confident, I twirled in the slippers. Unused to the thin heels, I tripped. Once again, the glass slippers remained in perfect shape.
Taking the hint, I slipped off the shoes and placed them carefully on the tabletop. I unfolded the dress. It was simply magnificent. I have never seen anything like it in my life. I realize that some of Lucille's dresses probably cost more, but they had been so loaded down with ribbons that they looked overdone. Besides, Lucille wore them and anything Lucille touched automatically became filthy.
I held the dress up to myself. The bodice was tight, with straps that went over my shoulder to support it. A spray of roses with pink ribbon as pinned to one of the straps. Small silk flowers and pearls were sewn to the bodice and accented the tiny waist. The dress was made of a shiny pink material, with a gauzy soft fabric that covered part of the full skirt and gave it a look like it was floating.
But Auberta had not exaggerated about the stain. It truly was horrendous. The wine had dyed the entire front of the bodice and a large portion of the skirt red. There was no way to hide such a stain and wine is impossible to completely remove. "What a pity." I remarked as I folded up the dress and wrapped it around the slippers. I was going to take the dress and slippers back with me to my room. Despite the stain, the dress was too beautiful to leave here to rot. It had been my mother's after all, and that automatically made it priceless.
A/N: People have been complaining about Derek's character, or lack of, and I completely agree with the comments, so I included that long overdue insight into his thoughts. I know he seems kind of wimpy, but give him a chance.
Kittycutie – Thank you! Here's the next chapter
Shattered rainbow – The talking cats are from a different land. This land is unknown to most of the human world and has magic and, of course, talking animals. This is also the land where Hank the hawk and Ari's godfather lives. Beryl and her family are prized cats of the king of this magical land because they're so pretty. Beryl's just a little bit conceited because of her royal heritage.
Crazybeautiful- It's so great to know people enjoy my story .I love the hawk too.
Li'l bling bling – here's more writing, just like you asked
Masked Dragonfly 0926 – Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, although it's kind of late. . third class leper – Derek's character is a bit more developed here, but I have a feeling you'll still find him dull. I'll try more later on.
Abby – Thank you. I completely agree that Derek's character is undeveloped.
Scoutcraft Piratess- I agree, Lucille is delusional. And she just keeps getting worse.