Stolen hearts Chapter Four
Bulma's point of view
'The sun is so bright, why must it always be so? Are you trying to punish me as well Helianara?' I though glumly as I gazed upwards, gasping with shock as I realized that the sun was well past its zenith. I was late yet again.
If there is one thing my parents have been adamant about, it is my schooling, they must have some hope for me. It is more forced though for I am the only hope, it gives them little options. They must make due with what they have, for I must continue the family rule or risk that chance of ruin. They have to mold me into something acceptable, at least enough to stand by the side of my husband, nodding and smiling but saying nothing. It would simply be my blood. I am not 'stable' enough to rule myself so it is my parents' obsession to find the right man to rule, whether he is a good husband is of little matter.
It is my duty; it is the least I can do.
Yet my schooling is of little consequence, my title is enough to attract suitors. I could be screaming and pulling my hair out, and all he would so is smile until he had my hand. Then the pretenses will be drooped and I can be pushed away into some dark corner only to be used as a figure head at public occasions. Like a dress jewel you only wear to the most extravagant ball. My courtship is more to my parents then I, yet it bothers me little. I have no belief in the foolish thing called love, and I know it is my obligation to my people. I have no regrets about the arranged marriage my parents have been pushing for of late.
It is for this reason that I reach Zeladonii status, it is only proper for the Queen of the Fey. They want so badly for me to make them proud and I would have it so, but life isn't always a perfect little rose garden, where cookies are baking in the oven, and the kids are playing ball in the back yard. In my life, the roses are trampled, the cookies are burnt, and the ball has been stolen.
I had come to feel that my mother's actions towards me were designed solely to make me an echo of herself. I once though my mother a Goddess, I would see her standing still in an almost celestial light, she looked so blessed, no blemish or mark of any kind upon her cheek or anywhere else. She was my beautiful golden mother, always pouring love over living things. Now I saw her as a hollow old woman, though her face had not changed so much in outward appearance, and I would rather be dead then be just an echo of her.
I remember once when she was talking to me, a rare moment of peace between us; as if I were a normal happy daughter and she truly loved me with that golden love of old. She had begun to tell me a sweet story of how my father and she met, and a dark rage filled me. Maybe it was jealousy, for I knew I would never have such an experience and I felt she was mocking me for it.
So I said stridently with disdain, "What a religious experience that must have been." I walked away quickly for my thirteen year old year could not bear to see her face when I had caused her pain and disappointment, but I could not stop myself. The anguish I saw before I turned away almost broke my heart, but I would not bend. It was an empty triumph, but I clung to it still.
That was the last time we ever pretended to be a loving normal family. There were no more pretenses. I tell myself it is better, that I need no more false hopes, anything else that can cause me pain. Maybe it is selfish, but all I have is myself.
My relationship with my father has been strictly business for the most part. I am an asset to carry on the royal line and that is all. There has been a time where we would smile at each other and he would throw me high in the air so I could feel the breeze in my wings and learn to take to the sky. Those happy memories are as faded as an ancient picture. The deaths of his children hit him hard. I do think he loved us dearly, more then anything in the world, and it killed him inside. I think he has given up, I recognize the look in his eyes. So much sorrow, maybe he thinks he is cursed as I do. He has never been cruel to me, neither has my mother, only distant. And I am not one to leap the gorge.
As I enter the thatch building that serves as our room of learning Chichi's eyes dart towards me in commiseration as if she were at my funeral. I try to smile back but it only comes out as a twisted grimace and I slide into my chair as quickly as possible, but not quick enough to go unnoticed. Another thing I have yet to master.
"Bulma!" The short dwarfish looking man calls sharply, his wings twitting in annoyance. I wince.
"How nice of you to grace us with your oh so merciful presence. This is the third time this week princess, I am going to have to have counsel with your parents. They will not be happy, very disappointing indeed." He mumbled almost amused with my misfortune as he returned to the lesson about herbs. I groan in defeat. I knot my brow and try to pay attention since I am here anyway.
I tune in and out, absently scratching notes now and then. He is talking excitedly about Valkyires now, and how it is rumored to be the coming of one around our time period.
'What rubbish' I mumble to myself. If anyone actually believes those old tales then they are more foolish then I am unhappy. Now he was on to runes, the magical inscriptions that were immensely powerful for those who could inscribe on them anything and call it to their will. Wood, metal, stone, whatever you wished, or could master.
I never had much success with them, but once I did make a fish fly and slap into the face of our teacher. No, I don't think he liked that one bit and overlooked the fact that I actually achieved something. Oh well, it was worth the look on his face.
What? He wants us to copy down axioms? I hate that, they are a mockery I say, nothing can be learned...
-A silly man lies awake all night Thinking of many things, When morning comes he is worn with care And his trouble is just as it was.
-The mind knows only what lies near the heart.
-Nothing can be expected but the unexpected
-Only a fool tests the depth of water with both feet
-Ignorance is not bliss, it is oblivion
That is all I have the stomach for as I gaze out the window. No one likes to be preached to. I care not for words, for that is all they are and of not aid to me.
Soon the session is over and I am being led down a long stone hall adorned with entwining designs along the wall. On the massive oak doors to the counsel chamber where my mother and father reside at the moment was a beautiful carving of the Tree of Life, connected to all. Its great curling branches seemed to reach out wishing to embrace me, but I pass by failing to take its warmth.
The squatty teacher looks back at my over his glasses and says curtly, "You are digging your own grave, do you know that?"
What is that? Was it a threat? A promise? Or maybe just a strange and unusual fact.
I have no more time to ponder such things as we confront Harmonia. When I see her in her Queenly attire attending to court powerful and graceful, I do not think of her as my mother, but as the great Queen Harmonia.
The small man quickly begins to explain my failures and shortcomings, and I can tell from the glint in his beady eyes that he is enjoying this. My mother tuned to me when he finished, and her anger made my teachers eyes swell with smugness.
"Bulma," she always grimaced when she pronounced my name and spoke through clenched teeth as if simply saying it brought a chill, "I am very let down by your behavior. I..I just don't know what to do," she was at a loss of words at the disappointment I was, "I have given you everything you…"
I cut her off unable to listen to this speech again.
"I ask for nothing!" I cried defiantly.
"And you shall receive it, in abundance!" she spat as her eyes narrowed dangerously, "I am forced to send you to your Grandmother's, maybe she can succeed where I have failed."
I paled visibly. My Grandmother is a horribly strict tyrant with an iron fist. This must be the end of my life.
"You can't do this!" I cry desperately.
"I can and I will, I am your Mother," she said coldly that would make one believe just the opposite, "you WILL leave at dawn tomorrow and I expect some improvement before you are to return."
She didn't wait for my reply as she turned abruptly and strode away. I looked pleadingly at my father but he had already turned to follow. I feel a pain in my heart. Yes, you are my mother, that's why you can just fling me away when things go wrong. Push me away like an unwanted object. I may deserve this, I may have broken her heart, But she broke mine as well. She couldn't bare me anymore..
The tears are mine to cry, and I cry away my silent pain to an uncaring world.
A/N-Well next chapter will be third person, so stay tuned. Thanks for reading!