Midori walked slowly up to the mirror and touched the cold glass of the mirror. It did not melt beneath her touch. Sighing softly, she muttered, "It was wishful thinking, ma was an illusion. Just like she has always been."
Midori turned back to the mirror and her reflection stared back. Green eyes met green. The squire looked down at her hands, calloused and strong. And scarred.
"No, my heart has bore many more scars then this…" she murmured.
A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts and she answered. Neal stood in the doorway.
Midori hung her head as Neal spoke: "I heard about your friend…I saw you dancing with him at the Midwinter ball. Did you like him?"
Midori couldn't help it. Her mask fell to the floor and shattered. She just couldn't hide. "Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper, and tears slipped down her cheeks.
Neal looked hurt at his daughter's pain. And he had done nothing for almost fifteen years. Except watch her from a distance. "I'm sorry, sprout." He made to go and hug her but she shied away.
"You kept her from me. Why?"
"Who?" Neal whispered.
"Ma…"
"I wanted to protect you."
"From what da?" she demanded, her voice louder.
"From her ghost. I would have told you sooner but something told me not to." Neal ran a hand through his hair.
"I've seen her ghost all along, da! In this room…she spoke to me."
"The concept of death has gotten to your head" Neal told her, getting angry.
"Or perhaps you have shut her from yourself!" Midori cried, tears pouring from her eyes. "Shut—her out like me!" her voice cracked.
"I haven't shut you out, Midori" Neal looked confused as his daughter opened a window that overlooked the garden, high up.
"You have. How many times have you said: "You'll know someday" when I asked about ma? So many times, I've lost count!" "How many times have you said: "Your mother would be proud" when I did something to prove my worth or love to you?" "Once. When I told you to stop wearing your mourning clothes and to get up into the sun. That was eight years ago. I was seven and only that one time have I heard you say those words."
"Your mother's loss was--" Neal was cut off by Midori's reply.
"Was what? Devastating? Heartbreaking? Like being drowned in ice?" "Did you not think I wouldn't notice her absence? I looked out the window each day and saw families together…whole families, I cried myself to sleep after those sights. I felt alone and all you did was mope in front of the hearth while I tried to think of ways to help you in the future…I trained and practiced with Aunt and I made habits that would help me in my dream…This dream. This honor. The honor of becoming a pillar of honor for the Queenscove line…that's all I wanted."
"I wanted many things too, sprout--" Neal's voice was strained with the effort of consoling his daughter.
"Don't call me that," she snapped, sitting on the windowsill, she looked down at the ground, so far down. She looked at her father and whispered. "You don't know me sir…you are no father of mine."
Midori hung onto the windowsill with on hand and swung out the window. Neal ran to the window, face horror-stricken. He grabbed her wrist and hung on. "Come on Midori, don't be stupid."
"I'm not, I'm just being insane. Insanity run in the blood I'm sure" she replied.
"I'm serious. Let go of the window--" Neal grunted as Midori let go and almost dragged him out the window.
"How'd you get to be so damn stubborn?" he asked.
"Like I said, da, it runs in the blood" she quipped.
Neal rolled his eyes, "Enough of the joking around, take my other hand and I'll pull you in."
"But--"
"No more jokes and no buts, come along and work with me here!" He was getting frustrated.
Midori swung to grab her father's other hand and as he pulled her inside the window, she felt a tugging at her foot. "Something's got me!" she whispered.
Neal looked out the window and saw a vine had caught on her foot. "Kick your foot out, it's just caught on a vine."
She did as she was told and it came loose. She fell to the floor in a heap of laughter.
Neal grinned, his facial features seeming to gain a boyish look. "Like I said, no more jokes…well maybe just one." He chuckled slyly and imitated Lord Wyldon—the former training master's voice—"Now get up, Queenscove, this is no time to joke around."
Midori cuffed her father on the back of the head, playfully. "That training master of yours gave you some good! But I regret to say I find myself agreeing to you, Sir Nealan"
"Gave me a good weeks worth of complaints, too." Neal laughed.