“Tell us Anna, have you ever owned a pet?” One of the smallest of the girls piped up and suddenly the table fell silent, all eyes drawn towards the new girl, cheeks bulging and macerated bread clearly seen as her lips could not possibly close over, her mouth being too full. An excruciating period of silence ensued as Annatrice tried desperately to clear her load but the meat's chewy bulk did little to aid her efforts. Finally swallowing loudly and with some discomfort, Annatrice took a deep inhalation and looked up to the heavens for some kind of inspiration.
“My name is not Anna.” Was the reply, a stern and unexpected scolding to the small girl who clearly expected a more pleasant start to the conversation? Another awkward silence followed as the other children seemed uneasy about resuming the small talk lest they get another firm rebuke. Marianne interjected. Her diplomacy skills well practised.
“Yes, we should all make efforts to refer to each other with the names we prefer, I personally was often referred to as Mary in my youth...quite disenchanting.” The girls laughed at a rare insight into their nannies youth.
“I believe we were talking about Miss Marubelle's new pet. Annatrice, as Lehona asked, can you tell us if you have ever owned a pet?”
Marianne was determined to get Annatrice involved in the conversation, she could see that she was at this time, isolated and unwilling to initiate conversation with her peers. Annatrice once again froze; the expectation of her next words seemed to be greater than they ought to be.
“Had a brown rat. Stumpy.”
Instead of the proportionate response she had expected, a set of contorted, disgusted faces revealed more than just their dislike of verminous rodents. Annatrice realised that these were not the children of slain peasants like her father, but the orphaned offspring of nobles.
“Stumpy!” One girl squawked in mirth as the others followed. Annatrice was unimpressed at first, but the fact that she had brought a little laughter to her new 'family' gave her some comfort, and realising her success, she continued along the same vein.
“Stumpy so called because he used to chew into our food store, my father caught him one day and was going to splice him in two with the spade but then we noticed he only had three legs and we took pity on him.”
Annatrice's tale brought about mirth, and then trepidation followed but coos of maternal warmth.
“And what happened to dear old stumpy?” An older girl asked above the hubbub of noise.
“We ate him.”
Annatrice's reply brought about a sudden deathly silence. Her serious and solemn face sent the rest of the girls into a state of shock. It was not the thought of eating rat that seemed to be objectionable, but the motive itself.
“But...but why?” Lehona's timid voice inquired.
“We were hungry.” Annatrice replied succinctly. There was another long and lingering silence, even Marianne was quite speechless. Annatrice looked around the room at the girls, so naïve they were, so privileged that they were appalled by such trivia. Annatrice motioned to speak.
“Look at your faces!” Annatrice burst out laughing, it was a humour that was lost upon the other girls and it took quite a time for the penny to begin to drop.
“You liar!” Lehona squealed, quite appalled by Annatrice's behaviour, she began to cry and the others comforted her. Annatrice looked at Lehona with some disgust at her apparently weak constitution. She grasped her table knife and stabbed a morsel of meat, thrusting it into her mouth, her contempt for the fortunate rich girls clear, choosing not to follow convention. A sharp pain brought about a quick withdrawal of the tool as Annatrice realised she had sliced into her lip, the knife sharper than she had reckoned. With the recoil of the stinging sensation of her flesh being spliced, a sudden wash of emotion, confusion and then clarity overcame Annatrice. In a fleeting moment, the thoughts and emotions of her contemporaries were glaringly apparent. Annatrice looked around the room and one by one, analysed each of her peers. The results brought Annatrice to her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the cold stone floor. Another silence was brought about as the girls once again looked at the new and mysterious arrival.
“Fascinating...” Annatrice said as she cocked her head to one side, her face anguished as she tried to make sense of the muddle. One by one, she looked at the faces of those sat around her and called out as if unable to hold her tongue.
“You...you think I am a peasant, therefore I am worthless.” Annatrice looked deep into the eyes of the nearest girl, a tall blonde haired individual with a sharp nose and prominent teeth and then moved to the next.
“You think I am a threat to you as I am beautiful and slim.” She said looking at the next girl in line, a larger, fuller faced specimen.
“You are frightened of me and think me to be a witch.” Annatrice addressed the child Lehona, whose face emptied of all colour, her jaw agape. The next in turn was Marianne herself who sat upright and nervous, attempting to take in the fast paced course of events.
“You Marianne...” Annatrice halted her savage display of perception, her face more pained now.
“You fear for me... you wonder how long it will be before I am sent for, like the others, just like you were... before you grew old and no longer captured his interest. You wonder why you do not have the courage to leave, why you did not have the will to resist his advances...”
“STOP!” Marianne cried out with a blast of anger and the urgency of a mother whose mystique was being blown asunder in front of her children.
“Go to your bed now and do not return until I have sent for you!” Marianne's demand was stern and Annatrice immediately took flight having been scolded in such an aggressive manner. Annatrice struggled to fight back the tears as she threw herself into the bed and pulled the covers up over her face. In the day room, several stunned young girls finished their meal in silence as Marianne sat and stared into space. They dare not even look into their guardians eyes through fear of seeing the moisture well up in them. Marianne was always so strong and in control, Annatrice had seen fit to destroy her veneer of invincibility with the careless slip of a knife and an even more careless slip of the tongue.
CHAPTER SIX
Annatrice lie in her bed for what seemed an inordinate amount of time. She could hear from the next room the movement and chatter of the other girls and the occasional distinct voice of Marianne. Annatrice was hot, sweaty and in turmoil. She had not planned her first encounter with the others to be so eventful, nor did she intend to offend Marianne who had shown her such patience. The stuffiness of the heavy sheets eventually subsided as the room grew darker and cooler and it was clear that night was falling.
“Are you awake?” A voice came from the doorway; a silhouette cast a large shadow across the room.
“Yes.” Annatrice replied meekly to Marianne who entered and stood at her bedside.
“May I talk?” She asked. Annatrice did not expect her to be so nervous around her. She sat up, the lamplight shining a warm glow across her face. Marianne sat perched on the edge of the bed and looked Annatrice in the eye.
“I know this is a frightful situation to find yourself in. I too was once a young girl as you are, alone and in fear. I'm sorry that things did not go well earlier. We should have spoken beforehand; I should have made the time to get to know you a little...”
Marianne was indeed contrite and seemingly blaming herself for the earlier episode.
“I am sorry too. You have shown me great kindness.” Annatrice could not yet look at the elder woman, she had realised that she had overstepped the boundaries of acceptable behaviour.
“We are all in a curious position here in the castle. We have all loved and lost, we are all victims to a degree. I am sure that you understand.” Annatrice nodded, she certainly empathised in that respect.
“We are here at the King's bidding, it is a role that we as free spirits find abhorrent yet we linger because we have strength in unity. You may feel that the other ladies have seen great privileges that you have not a
nd you may feel that they will not accept you into their 'family' but fear not, they are much like you and deserve your respect as much as you will demand theirs. You will see in time that you have far more in common than you realise; they too are the spoils of war, their fathers devoted as was yours. They have come to accept as you will that living at the mercy of the Regis although unsavoury as it may be, is necessary in order to maintain a level of dignity and the prospect of a future. We live here very well; the ladies are schooled, clothed and offered the best of everything the King can provide albeit...at a price.”
Annatrice listened to Marianne and understood her sentiments despite them being addled by years of incarceration.
“And when the King comes for me, I am expected to willingly give myself to the man who had my father slain?”
Marianne looked at Annatrice's dark eyes and bit her lip not quite knowing how to respond.
“The first time will be the hardest, it will get easier.”
Annatrice was outraged by Marianne's capitulation and her weak answer.
“I'll take his manhood off with a sharp blade; it will be he who will be left with regret!” Annatrice whispered through gritted teeth causing Marianne to clutch at the young girls arm.
“No, Annatrice. You do not understand. This would be your undoing. Be like the tree that is battered by the wind and rain but remains standing tall and proud to prosper the next day. We live a fortunate existence here at Fontayne; we suffer in silence but grow strong through our kinship.”
Annatrice looked up to the heavens and ran her fingers through her long, sleek almost black hair.
“The King has cast a spell on you all; you give thanks to your captor for the bribes he bestows upon you in return for your favour. You are slaves to his depravity. Can you not see how wrong this is?”
Marianne nodded, this was not the first time she had had this conversation.
“Annatrice, you are wise beyond your years. I have never met another of the like. I have heard petty talk and rumour of your encounter with Tragian; you speak from the heart and with the courage of a lion but your outspoken nature will quickly become your weakness in this place. Quarrel with Tragian at your peril, his thirst for blood equals only his hunger for virgin flesh, you must relent to his will, to oppose him would be your end.”
Annatrice looked at Marianne with a sideways glance; they both knew that the time of her purity had since passed. Annatrice motioned to speak on the subject but was quickly silenced by Marianne.
“You will not speak of it...ever. If Tragian discovers that you have been taken, he will dispose of you quicker than he would wipe the mud from his boot.”
Annatrice looked downwards glumly; it was not in anyone's interest to reveal this except for the small satisfaction of denying Tragian his sick fantasies.
“It is almost time for our gathering. It is a time where we sit and share stories. We are about to begin a new manuscript of some renown. I believe you would enjoy it. Will you join us this evening?” Marianne was doing her best to be inclusive; she was all too aware that solitude at a time like this was only destructive. Annatrice nodded reluctantly, she did not enjoy the prospect of returning to the scrutiny of the others.
“Before we do, I...”
Marianne seemed suddenly speechless, as if trying to formulate her words without causing offence. Marianne laughed.
“I think that I was waiting for you to read my thoughts and finish my sentence?” She smiled at Annatrice to understood and saw the humorous side of it.
“I am intrigued.” Marianne said, hoping that Annatrice would enlighten her.
“How do you...what...?” Marianne stumbled once more.
“I do not know. It is something that seems to be happening since yesterday. I don't really know how it works.” Annatrice struggled to put her feelings into a cohesive sentence, it was clear however that a curious talent was emerging.
“I cannot see your thoughts now if that is what you are asking? I'm not sure it works that way.”
“Even so, you have a powerful gift that you need to keep to yourself if you seek to avoid scrutiny. I can tell you now from personal experience that it is disquieting to know that your personal feelings are not your own any more. I would ask you to let me know if any more of these incidents occur. The welfare of the ladies must be my first concern and it is not fair on them to be subject to any more unfortunate 'revelations'.”
Annatrice nodded.
“Yes, I understand. Earlier, it just got the better of me; I did not mean any harm.”
“I know Annatrice; I believe there is much good in you. You must also realise that you will be of great interest to the girls. You are a fresh face and you are very different in many ways. They are keen to get to know you.”
“They think I am a witch!” Annatrice said with a wry smile.
“They will only think that if that is what you want them to think. Personally, I think they will be jealous of your bold nature and fetching looks then given time, they will have great respect for you. I see a leader in you, a woman with great promise.”
Annatrice raised her eyebrows at Marianne's gushing account.
“Come, let us go and meet the others.” Marianne took Annatrice's hand and aided her up from her bed.
“I have been thinking...” Annatrice stopped abruptly.
“Go on?”
“Who will bury my father? He is alone out there. I don't want to think of him lying there with the wolves...”
Marianne swallowed hard. She had no good answer for that question; she was hardly in a position to aid Annatrice in laying her father properly to rest. After a sustained period of thinking, Marianne tapped Annatrice on the arm.
“I will arrange it. I will speak with someone who might offer his kindness.”
The answer was enough for Annatrice to ease her mind over the issue which had surfaced many times that day. The fact that Marianne was utterly clueless in how to fulfil her promise weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Annatrice bravely rejoined the group who were waiting patiently around the crackling open fire. A hot pot of steaming milk and an engaging story would be enough to send Annatrice temporarily to a better place and take her mind off what was yet to come.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Daily life at Marianne's school began at daybreak. A short period of time allowing the girls to find some kind of decency ended with the arrival of breakfast. Much like the other meals, there seemed for Annatrice to be an embarrassment of riches. There were fresh eggs, bread, sliced meat and even a curious sweet and tangy preserve which Annatrice had not yet before encountered. Meal times took place in the 'day room' as did schooling and creative time which usually involved needlework of some kind although some preferred poetry or art. The baffling lack of everyday grind was quite disconcerting for Annatrice who ordinarily would rise to a freezing chill and an unpleasant trip to a nearby well to collect water for the day. In this place, the collection of wood for the fire was performed by some unsung soul who would never know the comforts that the girls would obtain from his efforts. Annatrice began to understand what it was to be both poor and wealthy and this began to play on her mind and open up a never ending series of philosophical quandaries.
Without repeating any of the tribulations of the previous day, Annatrice tried hard to integrate with the other girls and once she had risen above her own prejudices, she found them all to be decent and fairly humble young people. Once the talk of common interests took hold, it was easily forgotten that a peasant girl from Cayborne was socialising with the late Lord Cheavher's daughter from Threace. Annatrice quickly noted that conversation was rarely drawn towards the past. Negativity had been banished in this curious household and talk was often of the future. Despite Annatrice's cynicism, it was each girl's belief that one day, they would be offered to a noble of the land for matrimony. They did not dare speculate when this might come about and considering that half of the ladies were of marrying age, Annatrice could not he
lp feel that their hopes were high but misplaced. The King would allow them to leave only when he saw fit and in Marianne, there was her case in point.
It was clear that the matriarch enjoyed and prospered in her role as guardian and tutor. Annatrice found her to be a captivating and inspirational teacher as well as a patient one. Annatrice was of course well schooled in the harsh realities of everyday life but there was now so much more that seemed to be open to her as she realised the beauty of knowledge. It would be a tough start for the Cayborne daughter; her spoken word was eloquent but her written use of language non-existent. Marianne insisted that it was of no consequence and she could be pulled up to speed with relative ease.
The evenings brought about a more informal recreational period. Some of the girls spent their quiet time playing musical instruments or table games; some were escorted outside to ride. Annatrice spent the first few days exhibiting caution on all levels, she had yet to hear from the sadistic ruler or be summonsed to his presence. It was a rational and tangible fear that grew by the day. How long could it be before Tragian remembered the impudent wretch that so clearly humbled him in front of his revered guests? Annatrice was not so naïve to imagine that any plans the Regis had for her would be brutal at the very least and in some ways inescapable.
Prayers were a part of everyday life that seemed the most alien to Annatrice. Taurlin, her father had spurned the Gods and insisted that they were not spoken of at home. Annatrice grew up with the comfort of knowing that her life was her own and that she would never be judged for her actions in that respect. It was a comfort that did not extend to death. Annatrice found no comfort in faith now her father had been killed. Her reality was that everything her father was had now perished in the blink of an eye. This did not stop her from silently talking to him in times of solitude, but she was intelligent and aware enough to know that this was more for her benefit as a comfort than for his. When the time came to pray, she took the proud stance of abstaining and although this shocked the other girls, Marianne let it ride as long as it was not having a detrimental effect on the group.
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