Letter Two

To be delivered into the hands of the gentle Princess Angevine Iantheia of the Castle of Harmony Wind, Winding.

From her dark cousin Princess Mirthyane Anthaina of Carentas Kingdom of the Fleet Footed Steeds.

234 Ancienia
Sweet Coz,

Your messenger has been blessed with the swift feet of Achilles. Had he arrived only two seconds later, your letter would have never reached my hands.

I no longer live in fair Carentas with its golden turrets and winding staircases. Never again shall I see the sunrise from the top of the grass knoll nor sit with the horsemaster and listen to his winding tales. Never again shall I hear Madame Shrew hurl insults and cutlery out her window at her wretched husband. All these things that I have treasured have been stripped away by cruel fate’s claws and crushed in circumstance's ugly teeth.

Yesterday we were visited with terrible news - although it seems as if it were years ago. (Next time you see me I will have aged at least 20 years and have enough wrinkles to drive Madame Finerland into hysterics) Mother was, of course, devastated. As I look at her from the back of the ox cart, I see lines in her face I never knew. Her hair is completely white now – It used to be coal black. She sits and stares in the distance muttering to herself like a feeble-minded idiot. My idiot brothers assure me it will pass once we reach Glaukos…

As you know, after my dear father’s untimely death,  God deemed it good that my two older brothers, my mother and myself to live in the splendor and abundance of Carentas We have been living there quite comfortably for the past 15 years, raising and breeding the finest horses in the land, throwing the most extravagant balls, and celebrating our good fortune in any way we saw fit. That is until my fool brothers decided to squander it all in their folly. In bequeathing them with goodly features, I am certain God  must have forgotten to give them brains! Surely the village idiot is a hundred times more intelligent than they! Woe to the woman who must be coupled in wedlock with them! A pig would be a better choice in comparison. (You are probably wondering why they are deserving of the insults reserved for the common kitchen wife and her rolling pin.)

My two illustrious, handsome, brainless brothers took it into their heads to enter into a foolish wager with a stranger at the village pub over a year ago. Had they not overindulged like greedy sucklings on Master Hanover's sweet grape wine I do not think they would have squandered half as much. But as fate would have it they were ‘celebrating’ the birth of Star’s new foal, that looked to be a goodly stallion worthy of more than a million princes and their goodly kingdoms combined. I dare say our bounty would have increased two fold. I might have even gotten a new dress to rival Lady Finnicky’s opulence at last years ball. ( Do you remember? She was the one so weighed down with jewels that she had to hire four strong men to carry her around for the entire duration of the ball. The nerve of her. I was mad with envy for weeks. I still cannot believe the audacity of that …Woman….BAH. )But no. It was not meant to be that I should wear a dress fit for the princess I am! Drunk with the fruit of folly, Jack and Tom declared that on their honor, they would wage everything, even the clothes on their backs, on the new foal’s complete perfection.

‘None other’ they declared ‘Could be as lovely or more surefooted as Star’s newborn. Not even Pegasus himself could outshine her.’
And then, so I’m told, a dark cloaked stranger, unnoticed until then by the fire, rose and challenged my brothers boast.

My brothers, proclaimed that if in a year the stranger could procure a finer foal of purer breed, then they would hand over all their lands, possessions, everything, even the clothes on their backs. They even had the audacity to swear a blood oath--the most binding of all contracts. If broken, terrible things happen. eemember what happened to our dear, deranged, distant relation  Rapunzel and her foolish family?  And that was also due to a foolish man swearing away his only child for peace of mind from his wife’s nagging… Men!

Of course, in defense of my darkling dull-witted brothers, it was not all so foolish to make such a boast. After all the only breed ranking higher than a Scarlati is the Silvermane, a breed of half unicorn that is virtually extinct or rather was. The day the hooded stranger strolled through Carentas courtyard, he presented to my brothers, a Silvermane. I cannot say that I felt anything but utter amazement at the sight. All my deceased father’s stories came true before my eyes.

It was early morning and I had just gotten back from a ride on Kitten, a gentle mare, good for morning jaunts. We watched the sun rise over the sea and then returned because of hunger pains and the desperate need smell like a Lady and not a horse. As I climbed the smooth stone steps to my room I happened to glance out the windows … and saw my father’s myth standing in our courtyard! I ran down three flights of stairs, taking two at a time, all thoughts of a lilac bubble bath banished from my mind. The household was still waking. Sleepy eyed servants glanced at me in surprise but made no comment as I bounded out into the courtyard and greeted the stranger or rather I should say, the Silvermane:

“Oh! Am I dreaming or are you truly here?”

I reached to touch his fine moonbeam-like mane. He tossed it away defiantly and pawed the ground angrily. His eyes of purest blue glared at me. It was not tame. The rope binding it must have been of magical substance.

“I would advise you not to touch the beast dear Lady!” Came the melodious voice of the stranger form within the dark folds of his cloak. I tore my gaze form the Silvermane’s eyes.

It was then that I noticed, in shock, signs of ill treatment marring his transparent skin and golden hooves.

“This creature has been hurt!”I proclaimed indignantly to the mysterious stranger.

“Ay, so it has, but that is none of my concern!” The hood still remained.

“Who are you to do such a cruel deed?!” My voice shook “Show yourself at once! As mistress of this castle, I command you. What is your business here?!”

Amusement lined his voice with his reply. “As for your questions 'mistress', only one will I comply to. I am here strictly on whim of the masters of this estate.”

“I am their sister. Anything you wish to say may be certainly entrusted toward me with the utmost confidence!” I was annoyed at his disrespect towards my station.

The Silvermane snorted angrily. The hooded man touched it and it stopped immediately, though pain shot through its eyes. I smelt the sickening aroma of burning horse hair, though there were no marks or steam on the Silvermane.

“Ah!” the hooded man hissed “ But dearest Lady that ,I fear, I cannot do. It is your brothers I must speak with and them alone.” There was something dangerous laced in his tone. Although I did not show it, I felt, suddenly, strangely afraid of this man.

I quickly dispatched a servant to wake my brothers.

Silvermanes, as I said, are half unicorns, the purest breed a horse can attain, and very rare indeed since only once every millennium a unicorn will deem itself worthy enough to breed with a mortal horse. Even then it’s considered an insult to their nature (unicorns are fickle creatures at times – like brothers). Man soon found out Silvermanes had god-like attributes. They can run swifter and jump higher than any ordinary horse. The bond between the rider and his horse is always a precious thing. It is even more so with a Silvermane – they are sensitive to every thought and passing emotion. Of course when killed almost all their parts can be utilized for magical properties, especially their blood which can heal any wound. When this was discovered the skinners, the name for the most brutal of horse hunters, went on a rampage during the Great Plague, and virtually slaughtered all Silvermanes.
Soon they became almost a myth, a bedtime story that a father told his wide-eyed daughter many years ago.

The minute my brothers saw the magical iridescent horse, they lost all color and use of tongue.

Less than an hour later we were frantically packing the few necessary possessions allowed into the back of a rickety old ox cart that Farmer Benz found in the kindness of his heart to give to us. My brothers traded their silken garments in and having nothing to wear, as they promised even the clothes off their backs, spent the day shivering in the protection of wine barrels until Widow Harris found some of her husband’s old wool shirts and trousers to replace the barrels (Serves them right).

At first they refused to wear anything but silk and velvet. It took all of my patience to explain to them in short simple sentences that the villagers did not have that sort of luxury and that since we were no longer in court now the nobles turned their backs to us.

We were made such a mockery. I was hoping to find one soul in court that would take pity on us, but it seems they are all worthless pretenders. They all but gloated, hiding their smiles behind downcast eyes and fluttering fans. I hope Lady Finnicky falls over and breaks her leg with all her jewels.

We spend the night at Widow Harris’ but I realize that we must push on and leave Carentas and it’s parasitic hostile nobles and mysterious strangers behind. We were all dazed. One minute at the peak of society, enjoying fine silk and good food and the next I find myself in a plain, rough wool dress, sitting in the back of an ox cart, wondering what I will eat for my next meal, and if in fact I will eat at all. How I wish the miser who took everything from us would rot! If I were a witch I’d curse him.

Poor mother. If father had been here things would be vastly better. First my knock-kneed brothers would be soundly beaten (something I vehemently wish I could do) and second he would have found us a secure place to stay.

The nearest neighboring kingdom, Glaukos, is 40 miles off. I suppose once we arrive, we are to expect to secure a position in the castle, at least for a while, until a near acquaintance of sorts is found that can keep us. Now I must content myself in dirtying my lily-white fingers …How will I mourn the loss of their ivory color. And to think, days ago, I was to take a lilac bath.

A princess must do what a princess must do. I pity you must marry a man though. I feel they are a witless. Pray that he is not so foolhardy as my two idiot brothers. I have nothing left to say. Night is falling quickly and it is getting increasingly difficult to write in the ox cart. I expect we will take camp soon.

Ever keeping up appearances,
Mirth

P.S. (Written in the morning.) Do not cry dearest one, perhaps your prince will be a loving one – oh! I don’t want you to marry! Oh Ange, what’s to become of us? Men! Insufferable! Aren’t Geyonans known for their warts? I’m not being realistic… At least the stupid oafs I shame to call ‘brothers’ did not sell the house for a bag of beans as did a boy from our village known as Jack. What is the world come to? At least you have your wisps and Rhea. I just have my blasted brothers. Spiders Eyes! I would give a hundred times over to have accepted Aunty's request and lived at Winding this past year instead of ....Spider's eyes...I'm out of paper. Send all letters to Glaukos. I'm told it's not very large.