Chapter Three: Things Forgotten
The scent of lime-flower drifts under my nose and I remove it from between the pages of my book as if trying to follow the smell. I know Sir Hawk, the mighty Knight, will get out of his scrape with his evil arch nemesis the Duke of Tagory, barely alive. It is my fourth time reading this adventure and I know his inevitable fate so I put the book aside to follow my nose.
My rooms are empty and I slip from my study to peek out from the main door. I watch as a blonde head of bound hair creeps silently to the doors of the old nursery. No one goes in there, it had been closed off long ago, sheets and shadowed corners keeping my fear of the place alive. My curiosity piques as she pinches the door open just wide enough to slip herself through, a wrapped parcel under her arm.
Perhaps I've been reading too much because a few thoughts come to mind. Is Jennah a part of a secret society smuggling stolen artifacts and using our castle as a way-station? Or maybe there is a mad scientist in need of parts for her machine and Jennah is storing them until the plans are ready? Or, Jennah is sneaking in the last place anyone would look, as everyone avoids those rooms like a crime scene still under investigation, so she can slowly siphon jewels and gold from my father.
I shut my door silently. Then I bend to put my eye against the keyhole and I shallow my breathing as if a slew of armored villains are just around the bend. It's so quiet, and I know there isn't another way out of those rooms outside of passing by here. As the moments go, I think perhaps my mind played a trick on me? No, she must be doing something with the item.
Oh! She's the mad scientist, she must be building something in there! I drop to my knees to ease the muscle ache in my thighs from my long squat. It is up to me to investigate. My father left days ago with strict orders not to leave and not to host Sir Meliodas, not until he's returned. He had looked at me with suspicion as if I had schemed to meet the Demon Prince.
My father had taken dinner with me that evening, my first guest in the dining room for months. He'd been resigned when I'd told him I enjoyed myself and when I told him, 'Sir Meliodas isn't bad'. Although, his blank stare had been unnerving. And, also, I didn't want him to touch me as my emotions and instincts thrashed in some kind of self-preservation. A natural demon and goddess thing? I am not sure, we haven't hosted many demons and none have ever gotten as close as Sir Meliodas. But, still, he isn't bad.
The flash of movement I see through the keyhole has my heart skipping a beat, my breath catching. I roll my eyes at myself as Jennah goes down the hall silently and slowly. She's sneaking and my mind runs with the possibilities but she probably just doesn't want to disturb me. My interest is already captured, I will find out for sure but I talk myself down to curb the disappointment I expect.
My life isn't an adventure. 'Settle, Elizabeth, it's easier on you,' I tell myself. I wait even longer, to make sure no one is around. Rather than head to the nursery wing, I turn the way Jennah has gone. My spine straightens as I realize I want the hall to be empty of people. When have I ever...?
With a shake I spin, my bare feet padding to the double doors I thought hadn't been opened in years. I stare, unsteady, my hand trembling as I touch the knob. Just twist and pull. Rip the scab off. 'This too shall pass,' but my head grows dizzy and my breathing quickens, yet my lungs are burning from lack of air. Sweat beads, my neck strains as I stare at the threatening wood before me. My hand falls away and I turn, taking a step back to my rooms.
"Useless!" I hiss to myself, slapping a palm to my forehead. My heart races, slamming against my ribs. "No. No!" Something semi-interesting is here and I won't let anything stop me. Not this time. I turn, in one smooth motion, I step forward, grab both door knobs and fling them open wide.
Dust kicks up in a rush from the motion and I cough, turning into my elbow to protect myself, releasing a doorknob to do so. My eyes water from my cough but I count it a victory with a smile. I made it this far. The doors are all closed, so the only light is the window at the end of the hall. Dust coats the tile floor, footprints going back and forth marking over the particles, some new and some barely outlined from the age.
I won't be shut in here, not ever again, so I push the door open completely until it touches the wall beside the frame. When I am sure they will stay, I tentatively take a step inside. Master Twigo is long gone, but somehow I feel as if he is just around the corner. I wonder briefly if I wouldn't feel this way if he hadn't escaped his punishment for his crimes against my family. When the castle doesn't crumble around me and I don't break down into a heap, I breathe deeper. My chest eases its tightness but my trembling persists as I reach the first door.
With a creak, I let the light of the room illuminate the hall better. I know which room the steps lead to, can see my old bedroom door in the distance. This room though has white sheets covering the chairs and couches, a few old statues are being stored as well, a vase of blue and yellow big enough to fit me inside is upside down against the wall. I open every door in the hall, looking over the pieces of decor stored, the old child-size beds in one room and the child-size desks in the old study room.
It doesn't smell the same, the air is stale and dry. My memories are off about this place and surprisingly I find some happy corners amidst the fear. The shapes bring back scenes long forgotten. Margaret sneaking me a piece of cake while I'd been in the punishment chair and Veronica running full hilt away from Madam Godfrey. I smile, seeing an indent in a wall where I remember my rough sister kicking it in her fury at being told what to do. I'd been shocked into giggles at her behavior, even being so much younger. Then Master Twigo came and stole the joy away.
The castle had been filled with people then. I had forgotten that it hadn't always been this empty.
With all the other doors open and the hall lit from the sunlight bleeding through, I stand before the final door. The door doesn't creak, telling me it is used to being opened. Immediately to the right, almost blocking the entrance is a tower of packages. I slip past, entering the room and I can make out a crib, filled with parcels over the sheet.
The room had been closed off but apparently items wrapped in parchment and tied with cords have been added. The film of dust gives me a rough gauge of time with 'dustiest' and 'not that dusty' being my references. I bump a tower with my behind in a careless move and I freeze, watching it wobble before the top three parcels fall and I catch one, fumble another and the last wallopes me on the head. "Ow." With a touch of frustration, I kick the heavy package and it skids across the floor.
A card flips end over end as it floats down to the floor from the steadying tower. I put the caught, squishy package on top of a different tower to pick up the card, careful not to bump anything more. Using the sunlight I read the card.
Elizabeth,
I remember playing with something just like this when I was your age. I hope it brings you hours of happiness.
-Meliodas
I frown, my hand shakes as I realize what I am standing in the midst of. These are the gifts Sir Meliodas told me he had sent. I'd asked my father and he promised to 'look into the matter' when he returned but I don't need his help any longer. I won't remind him and seeing it all, I know I have my work cut out for me. The card had fallen out of one of the gifts from the wobbly tower so I shove it between two before picking up half of the tower in one go.
Not bothering to be quiet, I maneuver my way out carrying my things to my rooms. I bring them to my study as I start sorting my piles by my guess of how long ago the package had been sent. I make trip after trip, thinking about how over the years he has thought of me. Sir Meliodas traveled the world and I have been on his mind.
Over the last two weeks, I've thought of what we talked about and the things he'd said. I am making another trip back, about halfway through when I find the parcel I know is latest, the one Jennah just snuck in here. It is on top of a stack, the dust having been pushed and disturbed. He sent this one after our visit. I put it aside on my desk, wanting to have all the wrapped items out of there before I am discovered in case someone puts a stop to this.
A tender spot forms in my heart. While stuck here, everyone going about their lives, having forgotten me, Sir Meliodas hasn't. I don't remember meeting him as a child but he'd been old enough to commit me to memory as someone important. Or important enough, at least. I flush, growing warm from the exertion of moving so many packages. Then my brain, being cruel to me in its nature, reminded me of the duty he has.
We are falling in line to another's dictation. He may have thought of me as, 'oh, perhaps I should send this to my future wife' but he hadn't thought of me, because he doesn't know me. Even five year old me would have been another version of myself that isn't who I am now. I had asked him if he wanted to be king and he'd told me, "It doesn't matter what I want, it is my fate."
That's what this was.
Sir Meliodas is honorable. He will marry me, seek my favor for a peaceful life but all these gifts only mean he has money and servants he can order around. Regardless, that minimal effort is more than I usually receive so the tender spot remains. With the last of the parcels moved to my rooms, I survey the haul. It all filled the nursery but here, with my organization, I still have room to walk around the piles, the gifts take up about half of the room. I can open one a day for a year and still not see the bottom of the pile.
Some packages are thin, the size of an envelope, others narrow and long but most are smaller than a book. I found a few letters but after all the moving, I had buried them under the other parcels. Eventually, I'll get to them.
A thrill shoots down my spine. Today, I caught a sneak. I faced and conquered a deep fear of mine and as a reward for my struggles I found treasure! In a sense, this has been an adventure. I go to the package I set aside on my desk, untying the string holding the brown wrappings in place with excitement. Without the tension the paper unfolds, a card is inside over the face of a leather-bound book.
Elizabeth,
After hearing my other favors I've sent have been lost, I can only hope this finds you and finds you well. When you told me you liked adventure novels, I scoured our library for something I thought would suit you. Our bookkeeper, Mr. Pendragon, spent an hour with me, much to his frustration, until I finally settled on this one. Let me know what you think.
-Meliodas
His gifts aren't servant picked? This is two hand-written notes now. I put the thick, tan card into the book at random, marking a page before turning to gather another gift. A small cube, the size of an apple catches my eye and I pull it out. The knot is stuck and I spend my time carefully tugging at the little loop to free the gift. When it finally loosens, the wrappings are stuck in place from being folded for ages.
Inside is another note with the same bold handwriting.
Elizabeth,
This blooms once every 3,000 years. It's called the Udumbara flower, The Flower of Heaven. I wanted you to see it.
-Meliodas
My hands shake as the note falls from my grasp and I focus them on prying the box open. It will be dead, too long stuck in that room and I curse my father and Jennah and everyone who knows about my unreceived packages. If it blooms every three-thousand years, I'll never get to see it. My only hope is the flower dried properly in such a condition. The lid dislodges and with a tight chest, I look in, finding a clear oblong orb.
Had the note been placed in the wrong gift? I pull the glass free but it feels lighter than glass and I freeze, realizing its resin. My eyes fill and I rush to the window to pull back the curtains and get direct light. Inside, encased in the resin is the smallest, thinnest pin sized flower stem with five or six thinner stems at the head all leading to wavy white petals open in a bloom. He'd captured one, saving it for me... It is so simple but knowing how rare the Udumbara flower is made the little thing priceless.
In a rush, I push the wrapping mess off my desk, pulling out my ink quills and paper. I sit the flower on its flattened edge, standing the minuscule thing tall before me as my most prized decoration. I gape at it before I begin a letter to Sir Meliodas. I address him formally, the first paragraph an explanation of exploring old storage rooms and having found all his parcels. As I write, it devolves.
I find myself telling him about the flower and the book and how finding treasure at the end of my own adventure is so grand to me. My excitement over discovering a room I knew had always been there made me feel silly. I find myself climbing my way back to formality as I again invite him to another tea time. I give a date for after my father's return. I add a clause that if Lord Bartra has not returned by then that we will have to reschedule.
After I sign my name I think of our first meeting and I add with a P.S. 'If I had known you've thought of me fondly over the years I may not have been so afraid when meeting you'.
With shaking fingers I fold it up. I don't have a gift to return all the favors he's bestowed on me, unknowingly, over the years. Nothing here had been bought by me and I would need to bring Jennah or Zaneri with me into town. I want to have a day to look forward to and with my father gone, it will take too long.
Leaving will be impossible. Even Mael and Dale won't allow it without Lord Bartra on property. After some consideration, I tuck my ugly cat money in my bosom, fold the letter up in my waistband and I go in search of a solution. I find Zaneri, in the kitchens taking my meal there as I hadn't come down earlier. When I finish my food, I ask her to please have a guard summon Mead. She readies and I follow her, asking if she knows about any 'packages' from Sir Meliodas. She simply tells me, "Ask your father when he returns, Lady Elizabeth. He'll know."
As she is heading out the heavy front doors I call after her, "Please have the kids pack an overnight bag. I feel like company." She smiles sadly at me. I know she feels bad for me. Her eyes always hold an overly kind type of pity, especially when she catches me eating alone or taking tea alone or asking after my father who always seems to have business to attend too.
Jelamet had insisted on a nap earlier but with Mead coming I will need a chaperone and of course I think of her. Regardless that there is a six year age difference. Because we are opposite genders and he is old enough, I need her. I walk the empty halls to their wing, finding her door easily enough. I knock and to my surprise, Jennah calls out for me to come in.
The room is how it always is. Quilt covered mattress, doilies on all table surfaces and a big cush rug under it all. "Oh, excuse me Lady Elizabeth, I was expecting my sister." Jennah dips low while stepping back to let me in. Jelamet struggles from her chair and I go to her, helping her with my arm. I tell them where I sent Zaneri and Jelamet smiles her part grimace.
"I love when children's laughter echoes in the halls, it brings me back." The old woman utters, eyes dancing. Her hand comes up to cover my hand over her arm. "You used to scream so loud the windows would shake from your excitement."
Jennah slips out while I help Jelamet and I frown, wishing I asked her about the packages while I had the chance. We walk, our steps are slow and when we arrive after our jilted journey across the castle, I arrange her in my sitting room. I take a seat at her side as this is where Zaneri will bring everyone. Nervously, I ask Jelamet about Meliodas' gifts and her brown eyes sag as she looks into me.
"Oh, darling." She tells me, "Your father had so much regret over what happened to you as a child that he's crippled himself. He stumbles over his own fears and his own view of his failures." Her dry hand comes up to cup my cheek and there is so much comfort there... a touch that expresses love and tenderness. I sag into it, eyes filling and spilling. The letter at my waist crinkles under my weight as I slowly lean into Jelamets boney shoulder. I sob there, gripping at her blouse and her hands wrap around me, patting my shoulders.
I faced that horrible man's memory today but hearing how the event has affected my father as well, tips me over the emotional edge.
Mead and his siblings are so loud I hear them halls away. We right ourselves with watery smiles to one another and I rise to gather the box of toys from beside the bookshelf in preparation of their arrival. Mabel loves to dump everything out and get in the toybox to play. Zaneri promises treats when the kids swarm and Mead leisurely strolls to the fireplace to start it. He likes the ambiance.
The evening wears on and I invite them to dinner when Zaneri brings cookies. She will know then to set the dining room for us all.
Millie has her nose in a book she started at the last visit. She refuses to take it home with her fearing it will get damaged. Mabel has the toy box tipped over, toys scattering by the fire, with its gate up to prevent accidents, and she laughs, spraying cookie crumbs. When Jelamet is busy with Mae and Markle, Mead and I begin our game of chess.
Over the game board, we have our own dance. First, I will sneak him the coins behind Jelamet's back. With a quick flip of my dress, I remove the letter, tucking it under my thigh and I grin at Mead's devious smile. Perhaps my father is right, I am scheming. But, it is about time I take control of my own life. There isn't a way out of this arranged marriage and I can grow to tolerate Meliodas.
He hasn't been horrible and he is nice to look at.
Mead takes the job, the kids stay the night and when Mead returns two days later than his estimated delivery time, he asks to speak to me alone during the rush of greetings from us all. I've been glutted with the company, filled with the stories and joys of his siblings that I hollow inside knowing what awaits me when they leave. Jelamet waves us away, uncaringly as she reads Mabel a story on her lap. I bring Mead to my bedroom as the study is filled with gifts that I don't want to explain.
"Where have you been?" I ask, glad to see him. "We've been worried sick." Tears fill my eyes and he scowls, "I thought I sent you to your death or you were taken by some beast."
"Oh please." He puffs his chest, "I'm tough." Mead roams my room, looking into my messy closet and stopping at my bedside table where a stack of books rest. The top one is the book Meliodas sent, an adventure romance between a demon and a human. Together they save her kingdom and I hope they end up together. I have two chapters left and there seems so few pages remaining for the happy ending I desire. "So this is your room." Mead waggles his eyebrows sitting back on my mattress and I laugh.
"Shut up." I joke, crossing my arms and tapping my bare feet on the tile. "Spill, Mead." I demand.
"Fine... He wasn't in his kingdom. I had to track him and the Prince had been very impressed when I'd arrived." Mead pulls a heavy sack from his breast pocket. "Gave me thirty gold pieces for my trouble... he tried to buy information from me and in return, I demanded he give me the coin anyway or I'd tell you all about his shenanigans." With Mead's calculating smile I know he's successfully swindled Meliodas.
"Like I care what he's doing." I flush, my tummy twisting. Is it something horrible? Illegal? Dirty? Mead laughs.
"For you, the information is always free." Mead smirks, leaning forward, eager to share. "Underground fighting!" He confesses, his voice squeaking with puberty and excitement. "I stayed for the rounds and wooooahhh can Meliodas hook 'em. He left a crater bigger than this entire castle when he took down that beast of a demon." Mead shakes his head, "After all that, he lost to a human... I couldn't believe it! This guy, he can't die. I mean that, literally, Elizabeth. Meliodas ran him through over and over, ripped off the guy's arm and smacked him with it and still..." Mead throws his hands up over his head, falling back across my mattress.
"It sounds like an adventure," I hush, happy for Mead. I am so glad Sir Meliodas isn't in a pleasure den or drunk in a ditch. He'd told me he liked to fight. Mead sighs, long and pleased before rising to a seat again.
"Well, he tried to buy information about you. I refused. Trust me on that." Mead looks proud, "There was this ale there, I wanted to bring you back some but Meliodas wouldn't let me. It was full-bodied with the sweetest aftertaste and... uh, well I wouldn't know personally." His cheeks pinken and I move to sit on the bed beside him, smiling. Yeah, whatever, Mead.
"You could have told him anything you wanted, if you needed the money I would understand." I tell Mead, meaning it but he shakes his head, refusing.
"If someone is trying to buy your information, it can only be for a bad reason. Manipulation is my guess but Meliodas does seem pretty open. Not his style." Meads words give me pause. Meliodas is closed off with me. Maybe Ale opens him up? Mead speaks as if his evening out with the Prince means he is extremely close to him and I smile wryly.
A knock sounds at my door, and I call out a 'come in' thinking Millie must have finished the second book she's started. That girl devours books faster than me. Yesterday she finally agreed to take some of them home, with the promise to return them. Metal clanges on my tile as the door opens and in steps Ludociel. Fear shoots through me so fast my tongue go numb, tingling and feeling foreign in my mouth. I jump from the bed, hands up in surrender as the narrow face of my father's personal guard, and right-hand man, takes in the scene with contempt.
"Out!" The usually stoic face of the handsome Ludociel twists in derision. "You are not welcome here." Mead stands, wide eyed at the winged and armoured overbearing man intimidating my only friend, who doesn't back down, his shoulders square.
"Where Elizabeth invites me, I'm welcome." Mead's voice wavers but I think his bravery shines through his fear. When Ludociel steps forward, I don't want the situation to escalate and step between them. Mead is a teenager and Ludociel knows how to kill people with his fingertips.
Ludociel grabs my forearm, hauling me out of my room and into the hall. Jelamet is there, wide-eyed in alarm and surrounded by kids. "What is the meaning of this?!" Her voice never quakes, "unhand the princess right now." She demands.
"You are responsible for this." Ludociel speaks to the woman as if she should know better, "she was in bed with this boy! Do you know the repercussions if she's harmed, if she's touched ever again?!" Jelamet flounders, lips flapping like a fish and her cheeks burn red.
What repercussions? By who? My only thought is my father, he must have rules about this too.
"We weren't doing anything. Only talking!" I defend but Ludociel is hauling me away, calling over his shoulder the harsh demand of, "Get them all out of here, Lord Bartra will hear of this and you lot should be long gone by then." I look back, tears streaming as I tell them, "I'm sorry, so sorry," before I'm being dragged down the hall closer and closer to my father.
I'm towed by my limb passed the throne room, the entrance hall and we pass the wing the workers stay in to be brought up to my father's personal rooms. I feel like a child again. A flash of the last few times, years ago, when the mischievous streak I had, had been alive and enjoyed. I'd been caught sneaking treats, dancing on the roof- I had wings so how was that so bad, and spying on dignitaries. Each had ended in some form of punishment and I wonder now... what else can he possibly take away at this point?
"Ludociel please." I tug again but all it ever does is force him to haul me a step forward a little faster than before. The doors are open and we stroll in. My father is sitting in his study, looking old and tired and... sad. Ludociel releases me and I step away, folding my arms over myself. I watched my father as Ludociel tells him what he walked in on, "She was alone in her room, in bed with that miscreant of a boy!"
"It wasn't like how he's implying," I clarify, but Ludociel hasn't stopped speaking and my words are lost among the angry explanation of Jelamet's lack of ability, of the 'beggar' children causing such a fuss and how I 'ran a muck' while they were away. "We can't leave her on her own, with him on the prowl now, with him nearing, we must-"
Ludociel sputters to a stop when my father raises his hand in a clear indication to do so. He rubs at his temples, calmly asking Ludociel to leave us. The tall man spins, his long black hair fanning out around him and when he looks over at me with fury blazing I can't see a single similarity between him and his son Mael. Mael hadn't inherited his father's righteous indignation but there are plenty of Ludociel's friends that abide by his views. He has Dreyfus and Hendrickson listening to him as if his words are gospel. When I'd cared enough to sneak around to spy on others just to pretend they were my company, I'd heard his condemnation of the other races.
Did he condemn me too, for what has been forced upon me? Is that why Mael has stood by and let it happen? His father had made him play with me but can Mael have picked up on Ludociel's contempt of me- for things out of my control?
"Elizabeth." My father sounds weary. He puts a few things aside and stands, walking around his desk to ask me. "What should I do?" He asks, lost and my mind blanks. He's never asked my opinion before, he's never sought my counsel. I grasp at straws in my mind, trying to figure out what he means. With Mead? Me? Or Ludociel? Or has something else happened? "I am doing everything in my power, I spent days explaining courting to the demons to give you more time and I come back to this? Are you trying to force our hand, taking a boy to your bed?"
I flush, hot. He is talking about Sir Meliodas? He hadn't even crossed my mind. Is that what my father is so worked up over?
"It wasn't my decision to be betrothed," I answer, and my father scowls, a rough sound in his throat. I hate when things are decided for me, my life not being my own.
"But it was your decision to invite that monster here. Now, to lay with another? The boy is not to ever return and you tell me now, have you... is there a chance of a child as we must act fast if-"
"No, father!" I cover my mouth, my eyes filling in frustration as my breathing grows harsh.
"I'm doing everything in my power to keep you a little longer!" His voice deepens in anger and I fall back into old habits, sagging into myself like I am that little girl again. "To protect you from the world, from the harshness of it all and this is how you repay me? I thought you'd grown out of your sneaking!"
Protect me from the world? Why? Does this all stem from something I can barely remember happening with Master Twigo? My betrothal? The child inside me screams, silent and drowning in the dark nebula. I take strength from her and in the face of my father's anger, I stand taller, snapping myself from the void.
"Was it my fault?" I ask, soft and staring at my father's narrow eyes. They open wide at my words, a spark of fear in them. "Did I do something to cause it, father? At such a tender age did I do something to-"
"No, Elizabeth." He answers, immediately and passionately. Tears fall, heavy and I hate it, hate that while angry I drip sorrow. My father's eyes shine like glass. "You were vulnerable and that monster preyed upon a child, Twigo-"
"Then why?" I ask, kind and imploring, "why have I been punished for it? I can't leave. I'm told I need to make progress with Lord Meliodas and when I do, you're upset. Even our own city is out of bounds."
"It's not like that..." My father reaches for me. How many times have I wished he would? Now, I step away, wanting to fall into him but I need answers.
"Then what father? Why can't I simply try to win some favor with Sir Meliodas, a man you agreed for me to marry? Why did you hide all of his gifts in my nursery, a place you knew I'd never go and why am I imprisoned here alone when by your own admission, I've not done the crime."
For a long moment, we stare. My tears drip, trailing long paths down my cheeks and his eyes swirl in thought, and in... regret. More questions form in my mind. Why did he explain courting to the demons? Couldn't I have gone with him and why can I never go anywhere even with my father there? What harshness does he speak of, in regards to the world? If I want answers to the question I've already asked, I had to wait. I'm very used to waiting.
"I don't want to lose you, I just want to protect you and I've never been able to. You are most important, the last of my babies and when I look at you all I can see is... my own failure." His eyes fill and I balk as tears fall down his cheek, one and then another. That's all he will seemingly allow as he uses his sleeve to rub at his face. In tandem, I reach for him but he's already turning to his desk away from me and my hand glides to my side having found nothing to hold.
He sniffs and I wipe at my own tears, wanting to embrace him and be held by him for just a moment... My father takes a seat at his desk.
"Do you love this boy, Mead?" My father asks and I scowl at the subject change.
"He is only my friend," I confess truthfully. "Truly, nothing happened, he was delivering my letter to Sir Meliodas... as obviously our delivery methods here are flawed." My father has the decency to flush.
"I kept the parcels away so as not to remind you. I wanted you to grow without that influence." I cross my arms again, defiant and he sighs. "Regardless, you know my policy of being alone and behind closed doors. Mead will not be permitted on castle ground again. I shall spread the word." I flinch, hands shaking as they rise to cover my cheeks.
"Father, please!" I can't leave the castle and he can't come into it? "He's my only friend!"
He scowls, figurative steel hardening in his shoulders but my father waves his hand to dismiss me like he did Ludociel. "I've made my mind up on this. It will buy you more time."
For the first time in years, I yell, my voice cracking as I unleash the whirlwind building inside me at the thought of another loss. "All I have is time!" Once it's expelled, I crumple, parchment gripped in a fist that can never be smoothed right again. My father lowers his head to his crisp, pristine papers, ignoring and forgetting me again.
Mabel will too, she's so young I know personally that memories from her age are fleeting. Millie won't get to finish that novel- no! I'll send it to her, no one should have their story cut short. Markle and Mae will have to make mischief without my guidance, they'll manage if they listen to Mead. He rivals me and he has been a true friend.
I stumble as I walk out, heading to my silent, empty rooms like a ghost, moaning low and dripping. I still have Jelamet... She's been with me since I was a baby. Mead will be fine without me, he has a house full of love to go home to every day but without him and his siblings, I won't get to watch what family is anymore. Who will I talk to now? What do I have to look forward to?