Notes

✓ iii. Garden in the soul

Most little girls looked forward to the time when their father returned home. Amelia could no longer. As soon as the messenger boy pressed that tablet against her mother's palm, calamity had risen from beneath the sand revealing a treasure never meant to be found.

Everyone who took note of the child could tell how deathly terrified she was. She didn't try to keep her emotions hidden, she reeked of it. That following night her mother left her daughter afraid with her shaking body compressed against the pillows, Amelia felt a fury that couldn't easily be blown out by the heaviest of winds.

It was her fault. It must be. Her father could not be someone so easily killed, so easily shot down by arrows. Tears stung the young girl's eyes as she envisioned him taking his last breath in pain near his comrades who have also been sacrificed to fight in the war as loyal citizens of their kingdom. There must have been something she could do or anyone in the political ring could do.

All the young girl could see was a diminutive Queen, adorned in the finest of silks. Her large, unusual-colored jade eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, set in a heart-shaped face, made to speak words of authority. A Queen could send more troops to the exhibition.

A Queen who did not.

Despite this, not one soul who worked closely with the family would risk so much as a whisper regarding the possibility of indiscretions on the part of their King's wife. Amelia lied back on her bed feeling her earlier fatigue streaming back in waves. She urged her mind not to think about the possibilities, but to just accept a little time to rest.

Throughout the duration of the early afternoon to the night, maids have been dismissed before they could even take one step inside of the chamber. It was humiliating for Amelia, though it was not her first lashing and far from her last, her pride had kept the peering eyes away. For the meantime, she allowed her heart to weep for the garden in her soul to relish in a moments peace.

As the tears settled on her stained cheeks, she thought of her father's calloused hands soothing her into steps of deep slumber. At the peak of the night, she would often awaken from a terrible nightscare causing her to see dark figures inside of her chambers.

Sigfredo banished them, sending them far off where the light never touched, she believed. Then when the night has settled, he would easily coax her back to sleep, running his hand gently over her forehead, brushing back her untamable curls—a gift she inherited from him.

Except for this time, it felt surreal. A hand startled her, sending her own flying behind the transparent linen to slap the intruder.

A soft coat of fur pounced beside her on her mattress. She focused her eyes, wearily. The bundle of white fur took safety on her long pillow with its wet muzzle smearing against her temple.

“Tomyris,” she whispered, a smile displaying on her lips. “Thank you.”

She felt empty, as if the was hole in her chest where once her heart stayed. She felt lonely, only the sound of her breathing filled the air of her room. She felt dead inside out.




























IV. Cats Tongue

“I WISH I NEVER WOKE UP”

With tears stinging her swollen eyes Amelia turned away from the maids watchful gaze. The sight of her sister Sofia clinging to their shoulders like a feeble invalid hurt her more than anything else. But she struggled to contain the thoughts in her mind—The King was not her father, but youthful friend. She did not feel the same pain in her chest as Amelia did.







Always one for brevity, Sofia waited in silence.

"Seems you have suddenly forgotten your tongue, sister." At the lack of response, Amelia continued, her fingers tapping on the metal of her goblet as she regarded Sofia with supreme annoyance. "Permit me to remind you, then. Each time you enter the throne room, those wide brown eyes of yours must remain fixated on the floor for someday you will be going beyond it."

Instincts on high alert, Sofia shifted her position on the velvet cushion. “I speak of no words.”

Amelia eyes flashed with anger. "Father's death does not mean that we lack in minorities and respect."