Letter One

Delivered from: Castle Harmony Wind, Winding
Received by: the Princess of Carentas

        Winding Runner Donald (I ran all the way, phew!)

234 Ancienia

Dear Cousin,

I can barely write my hands shake so much. Sorry about the ink splotches. I’m hiding in my study, no one can find me. I’m so distressed. I’ve scared all my little wisps. They disappeared into the walls and among the books. There goes another, a small light blue one. They're so fairy-like and quick. It has disappear into a plant near my desk. I miss the silly things, though they follow me around all day without rest. Once I’m calmer I suppose they will come back, but I fear I might never be calm again.

Do you know the distant country of Geyona near the Æonies Sea? It borders the mouth of the Trade River. I shall soon know it very well. I am going to live there, because now I’m betrothed. I’m going to marry the Prince of Geyona!!!

Let me describe everything for you. It began early afternoon when Rheamina and I walked in the outer halls bordering the gardens, where my wisps love to play.

I liked Rheamina’s company best. She doesn’t care how I act or treat her, or even how I dress. The other handmaidens bother me constantly. I’d dressed the way I like; wearing a simple frock, a light green color with short sleeves and pockets in the skirt. They’re a marvel, the simplest invention, but I can hardly manage without a pocket now. The only thing I had that marked me as noble was my fan; hidden in those convenient pockets. Some of the older nobles even mistook Rhea for me.

We passed through an doorway and saw a group of guards practicing their fencing in the garden. Rhea and I stopped to watch, but Lady Tensley’s saw us and scolded me for it. That didn’t stop me, I pulled out my fan, so I could spy through the bottom slits. Then I moved away from Lady Tensley until I could see better.
The fencers were quite good, both guards. One I recognized from the Seconds. He had with a purple rope on his shoulder. It was same man I’d noticed last Easter, with his heavenly eyes and dark blond honey colored hair and his skin like tanned leather . . . oh, bother I can’t even describe him very well. Just know that he is handsome. Both guards crossed around the circle and dashing at each other like terriers, but in the last minute the Seconds man disarmed his opponent. The small crowd cheered and I applauded, until Rheamina stopped me from drawing attention to myself. I watched as the other guards praised him and slapped him on the back. Rheamina finally dragged me away. Then a blue page boy found us and told me Mother requested my presence.

Rheamina followed me, silent as ever, and behind her green and blue wisps danced, sometimes flying under my skirts. I asked Rhea what my mother could want, but she knew nothing. I left her at the golden doors outside mother’s rooms, where I knew I’d find Mother lost among papers and drowned by the minister’s words.

Oh cousin, had I but known I wouldn't have gone so cheerfully to the door, or entered with such light heart, my wisps dancing around me, luminous and free.

I entered. The guards to either side of the door bowed. The long stateroom had portrait paintings of my grandmother and grandfather, great grandfather and great great grandfather. Large stained glass windows headed the room, casting colors on the long caramel carpet. My mother stood behind a large oak desk. Nearby her, the Minister Geddes stood underneath the portrait of my father. The old man wore a coast with long gray coat tails and his bushy hair piled on top of his head like a nimbus cloud. His gold rimmed glasses slipped off his pointy nose as usual. To the other side, a man rose from a chair. We’d never spoken before. I’d seen him around the court. He fit his emerald and gold suit proudly, with a fat stomach, and short legs. He black hair slicked across his forehead. His eyebrows puffed out like gray cotton and a trim beard covered his chin.

Oh, but, fear not, this isn't the man who I'm betrothed to. He is merely an ambassador. At the time I didn’t recognize the oval crest - of a bird in flight - sewn on his coat front.

Mother smiled, then her eyes widened at my dress, hardly formal. I could hear a reprimand coming. She didn’t give it, because of the ambassador’s presence.

“My daughter, you have been at your studies?”

“Finished this morning, my dear Mother. I was walking in the garden when you called.” I curtsied to her. Don’t mind, that we sound so very formal, it’s a game we play to impress the court. We always laugh about it later.

“We have discussed much this morning. Lord Abredy, may I present my daughter – Princess Angevine Iantheia. Daughter, Lord Abredy wishes to attend to you. He comes from Geyona,” she added, since it was obvious I’d forgotten.

“My Lord.” I curtsied to him.

“Princess.” He bowed too. “As charming as a little deer, and as pretty as any fawn.” His compliment made Mother cough, but I kept smiling. “Let me now attend to you. I have a small gift for the young princess, to please her.” He beckoned to a small box on the desk. “This gift comes from a young man who also wishes to please you.”

I ran to it. I never received gifts from ambassadors or anyone from the court. If I did, Mother usually sent the bushels of grain or buckets of apples to the kitchen or else displayed the tapestry somewhere. Two blue wisps jumped down onto the desk top. I nudged them gently from the box. No one else could see them, so I tried not to react to their presence. Then with eager fingers I opened the box.

Inside I found straw lining and an egg. Not a golden egg or painted egg, but an ordinary chicken egg. I couldn’t hide my disappointment, but I tried.

The ambassador watched my face. I stammered my thanks, perhaps I wasn't enthusiastic enough. He frowned in disappointment. Mother had a blank look on her face, she didn’t know what to say either.

Then Lord Abredy bowed to me, then to Mother. “Well, if her Majesty will excuse me now, I have much to write his majesty back home.”

“Yes, I shall see you again at the banquet.” Mother rose as he left. Then she turned to the Minister, who’d already opened his mouth to say something. “Please, Geddes, leave us.” He bowed to her and left. The guards followed him.

Now we were alone.

“A chicken egg?” I looked down at the egg in my hand. It felt as light as air. It was hollow inside, at least that way it wouldn't spoil and end up rotten.

“A Goose egg.” She corrected. “Oh, Ange, you’re wearing nothing but a green frock, a peasant girl’s dress. Hardly fit for anyone, I see loose stitching on your hem. And I suspect there is nothing on your feet.”

“I have these, as always.” I lifted my foot in the air to show her my blue slippers, with worn leather soles, though the heels had yet to grow holes.

“You have been dancing?” she asked, a pink wisp appeared in her hair and leaned over her ear.

“Not as much as you,” I said. The pink wisp laughed, and jumped off. Of course, mother didn’t hear it.

“Only as suits a Queen, but my dear.” She paused, her eyes fell onto the desk. She sat and I noticed all the color fled her face.

“You’re sick!” I ran forward.

She looked pale as her silver dress. Her blond hair folded up in her crown. She wore a purple vestige, and long gray belt tied off with silver tassels. The sun faded from the room and the glass above dulled. The yellow and pink wisps fled the room, jumping into the stain glass windows or cowering in the folds of my skirt and loose hair.

I fell to my knees and took hold of Mother's cold hands, placing them in my own and on my face. “Are you ill?” I asked, trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

“My heart is. I’m heartsick,” she said squeezing my hands.

“Why?”

“For you my sweet, because of you, my little one.” She reached forward, her hand cupping my face. The wisps around me scattered from her movement. She brushed them away without even noticing them. She couldn’t see them after all.

“Don’t be heartsick when I’m right here.” I tried smiling to comfort her.

“Not much longer, dearest. Not much longer.”

“Oh, but – I will. I’ll be here with you, like always.” I felt so proud and certain of myself, yet it sounded all wrong. Somehow I knew it was wrong. The wisps nearby moaned softly in my ear, like wind in the chapel.

Mother brushed at my hair, pulling the golden strands against my face. “I’m sorry dearest. I’m so sorry. I’m afraid your heart will be sick now when I tell you. You’re not mine any longer. I have agreed to a betrothal.”

I fell back resting in her hands, my arms falling to the side. “Betrothal?”

“To the Prince of Geyona, the one who sent you the egg. Oh, your father would have wept to hear it, but I – ” She seemed ready to fall to pieces, even mentioning father’s name. “I have no choice. There is so little left of Winding, and they’ve promised a trading agreement, bound by your marriage. We -”

I pulled away.

“Ange wait.”

I turned when she said my name again.

The stateroom seemed like a golden box to me, the walls tight, the portraits stared down – proud, angry and royal. Mother continued. “Geyona has sent assistance to us so many times over the years. We’ve relied on them before, Catha can’t do more than send aid. They can’t help us rebuild. I can’t bear losing you, but I ignored their offer so many times it offended them. We’re lucky King Jarus still-”

“No,” I said. “No. I can’t get married. I can’t leave. I can’t leave you or Winding. You need me here. You-” I tried to think of a way to convince her of this, but I couldn’t. Geyona! Geyona! I kept thinking. “Geyona is too far away. Much too far. I can’t possibly-”

“It isn’t that far, and it isn’t unsuitable. Ange, oh, wait. Ange!” Mother called, but it was too late. I fled the chamber. I dropped my fan on the floor. I surprised the guards outside the door.

Rheamina caught me in the hall, but I pulled away and kept running. She tried to followed me, but I was horrible and I’m still hiding from her. I’m hiding from everyone. I managed to get paper and ink at least, so I could write to you.

I’m so uncomfortable hiding up here. I didn’t bring any blankets or pillow. And it’s horribly bright outside. I can see the edge of the garden wall and the castle tempest from this window ledge. It’s nearly evening and soon it will be dark. But I’m not going to dinner. I might as well starve. I’m afraid to move. How can I face my mother? What can I do? I don’t want to marry a man I don't know. I think I’d rather go into the church. I don’t think anyone can help comfort me, except maybe your kind words. Oh cousin, what is to befall me now?

Yours ever, Ange.