by Emily Albert
The girl had had a small feeling that it would be nice to be one of those creatures. She could fly away from everything, soaring right into the open sky. She could be above it all.
Lenna reached into the stall toward Pegasus’s head, which was gently rocking back and forth. He blew hard out his nose, nostrils flaring. She mimicked his sigh in response and stayed there, arm hanging limply over the door. This horse probably knew the stablehands better than he knew her.
Still, this horse represented her love for her mother. It was wellness, happiness, youth. It was all her mother wanted and deserved. Fay’s presence remained in the stable, even when she was partly gone.
As she stared at him, memories of her mother reading to her flooded in and filled her thoughts. There were fantastic stories: ones of absurd creatures living in the sea or the sky, of people who were punished by the gods, of people becoming heroes. One book her mother had read often was about a great, courageous king who made a tragic mistake and was banished from the kingdom, returning later, admired and redeemed. Lenna remembered her mother crying while reading it; she wondered if the book somehow reminded her of her father.
Lenna’s thoughts were broken by the velvety nose of her horse on her hand. Both jumped at the sudden movements and unfamiliarity of one another. She gazed at Pegasus for a moment with the ghost of what she had been thinking about. When he didn’t put his head back down, she reached both hands out to him. Several stalls down, Lenna heard someone cleaning. Although she felt watched, she allowed herself to stroke her horse, just as Pegasus allowed her to do so.
“Good morning, your Highness,” a woman said to her, her boots tapping on the wood as she passed.
As Lenna spun around and started to speak, the woman stopped attentively. “I would like to go for a ride,” Lenna said.
“Of course.”
“I would like to go on my own. Would you show me what to do?”
“Yes, of course, your Highness,” she said, turning to Pegasus without missing a beat. “I can help you with that.”
Lenna watched as the petite woman shakily prepared her horse. Standing there uselessly brought back the guilt of not riding like her mother wanted. Remy always loved to ride. He often jousted, did mounted archery, and happily went for rides outside the castle walls. Lenna never became interested, not even for her mother.
The stomp of a hoof roused her, and she looked up to see Pegasus outfitted with a saddle and bridle—the way she was used to seeing him. The woman smiled shyly at her and began to walk the horse toward the doorway. “You can follow me, your Highness,” she said. “I can help you up if you need.”
With only the sound of hooves and boots clipping down the aisle, all three walked out into the bright light. Lenna climbed on top of a block of wood and swung her leg over the horse while the woman held the reins.
Lenna gaped at her horse, noticing for the first time how high he raised her. The woman looked up at her, biting her lip. “Are you all right? Do you… do you need help?”
“No, I’m all right. Thank you.”
“I know that you know how to ride, but it’s okay if you—you know. Or if you’re nervous. So the best ways to go are probably out the gate and toward the river, or if you go outside the wall behind the castle and past the farms, there are wide-open fields before you hit the forest—oh, but of course you know all this. My apologies, Highness.” She stroked the horse’s shoulder before backing away.
Lenna looked down at her. Her head did not even come up to Pegasus’s withers, and there were several flecks of hay stuck in her light brown hair. “Yes, okay. Thank you.” she said and started toward the field behind the castle.
Once they had left the castle boundaries and were walking next to farm fields, Lenna looked out at the long expanse ahead. There were rows and rows of crops being tended, and beyond it, there was nothing but open space. The trees of the forest crowded the horizon. On this horse, she could fly past everything if she wanted to.
You’ll see. There’s power. It’s in you already, just bring it out.
Her heart began to race, and she felt as if all she wanted to do was tell her horse to go faster, faster, faster. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat and would become just as restless. Maybe he already felt the same way, like the open field was suited for pounding hooves and racing hearts.
Slowly they gained speed, Lenna pushing her horse on. She glanced at the people working in the fields. Being just on the edge of the crops, she could see some of them closely. They looked back at her, and she glowed.
Just before they reached the open field, now at a stifled but excited trot, there was a sound of whispering. It could have been the people talking around her, or the wind rushing by, or Pegasus snorting, but she didn’t believe it was. It had to be that her guardian was pleased. She stared straight ahead into the field of nothingness, eyes narrowed, and tried to project her energy into her horse. Then, they galloped.
Lenna’s dress flowed behind her as Pegasus’s body rushed forward, legs reaching out as far as they could in a desperate attempt at an impossible speed. She closed her eyes, trusting everything around her. The moments across the expanse were blissful. The once calm air turned into a forceful, whispering wind that drowned out the world and brushed her face, cooling her entire body. It was like nothing she had ever felt.
And this? It’s nothing. There’s so much more.
“This is for you, Mother,” she breathed.
No, this is for you. You’ll see.
Her guardian’s words flew around her mind but did not stick.
As Pegasus slowed to a trot, she reluctantly opened her eyes. She was met with deep, complex woods. Staring into them made her stomach flutter, but it was too intriguing to look away.
Pegasus slowed, and Lenna looked up to the pink sky. On the surface she felt numb, yet somewhere deeper she could identify every feeling: calmness, exhilaration, exhaustion, and pure happiness—yes, maybe even happiness.
She didn’t mind the fact that the light would soon be gone. She sat on Pegasus with a free mind and allowed him to meander around the field. Eventually she became aware of her breathing, then of her horse’s, and finally the complete darkness enveloping them. In a very silent and dreamlike state, they walked back across the stretch of land toward the castle.
Pegasus was returned to his stall while Lenna slipped inside her sleeping castle and readied herself for bed.
THREE
Lenna lay in bed half awake and staring at the canopy above her. The first thought she had when she woke was the consuming desire to stay in bed. She closed her eyes and buried her face beneath the pillows. Her legs were sore, and she was not sure why. Her next thought was that she had not bathed before going to sleep and she suddenly felt very unclean. Feeling her hair, she noticed it had come out of its knot and was tangled. Why did she feel so dirty? Why had she not bathed?
Lenna had one final thought before she pushed back the covers and hopped to the ground: the memory of flying across the field at a gallop with windblown hair and a clear head. With a longing ache in her stomach, she started to run through the corridors to bathe and go back to the stables. As she passed her mother’s bedroom, she heard her call, “Lenna! My Lenna!” and, sighing, trudged in to see her.
Golden morning light shone through the windows, as they had forgotten to close the curtains in their distress. The room was bright and warm, and the sun brought fresh life in. Fay was in a spotlight coming from a nearby window. She sat up straight in bed and made eye contact with Lenna, something she couldn’t have done last night. Her hair was gently tousled, but her ringlets remained intact. Her bright white sheets were crisp, as if she had only had a brief nap. Her face betrayed her though—a pale, grayish color painted her face, and her once warm eyes were sunken with no life in them. When she was still, it looked like she was a corpse, groomed and posed to look like something living. Lenna’s stomach sank.
She didn’t realize she had stopped walking closer to
her mother until she was called again by the almost-life-like creature on the bed: “Lenna, my dear, what happened last night? I heard you walking through the halls very late, and you must have gotten to bed even later. I was just worried…” she trailed off, distracted by nothing Lenna could see, too tired to try to present her words nicely.
Lenna stepped so close that she was hovering over this thing that was her mother. She wanted to pump life back into her and make her become her mother again. Instead, she pretended she was looking at her real mother and said, “That means you must have been up very late as well. Could you not sleep?”
Fay made a half-hearted sound in reply and barely whispered, “Where were you?” Lenna could tell her volume was not for lack of caring, but lack of energy.
Lenna sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her mother, smiling. “I went for a ride.” Suddenly it felt as if there was energy in the room. Fay locked eyes with her daughter and attempted a small smile. “I don’t know… I just… I saw Pegasus and I figured he could use it. It was fun. The weather was lovely.” Lenna felt a flush of pride for finally finding this, knowing it would make her mother happy. Fay stared at her for a few moments longer, and finally she did see her mother. Her face was soft, yet Lenna could see she was sharply analyzing her. Her skin gained some color back.
“It was just—I don’t know—The horses are so powerful.”
“Yes… Very gentle creatures, hm?”
Lenna looked at her mother lovingly, carefully. They had different understandings of horses, but that was okay, as long as they had some connection. “Yes. They are.” Mother and daughter sat together for quite a while, glowing, sharing this unspoken connection that Fay had always longed for.
“Remy loves them, you know. Very talented.” Fay’s smile grew.
Lenna wanted her mother to say something about her. She wanted to be told she was proud of her. Her mother had always had Remy to share this with, but now she could relate, and she wanted her to know that. Trying to pull that recognition from her would be futile; Fay’s exhaustion showed that did not have that much in her to give.
When Fay’s temporary spirit had completely worn off, her eyes drifted lazily down to the bed.
It will all be yours. Soon. Not hers, yours.
Lenna recoiled and put her hand on her mother’s to reassure herself. She loved her. She did not want her to deteriorate so she could have the throne.
In the bleak energy, she once again felt the dirt on herself. She stood and looked back at her pale mother who smiled weakly and said, “Thank you, my dear Lenna. I love you.” Fay closed her eyes. Without another word between them, Lenna left and made her way to the bath. Then, still holding on to last night’s feelings of wildness and freedom, she went for another ride.
○○○
The nursery was still and quiet compared to the feeling of Lenna’s ride. It brought her down from her high. Kendra stood by a crib, snuggling a baby. When she saw Lenna, she set the calm bundle down and turned to Lenna with a big, welcoming smile. “Oh, Lenna!” she cooed.
Immediately Lenna was drawn to her wide-open arms and allowed herself to be enveloped in her soft body. Kendra made little comforting noises as she held Lenna. Just as Lenna began to pull away, she started stroking her hair. “I heard about your mother,” Kendra whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Lenna nodded against her. They stayed like this for a while until she pushed herself away and looked into the woman’s maternal eyes. She found she couldn’t say anything, so Kendra filled the space: “She’d been getting worse, huh?” she said gently. When she saw Lenna focus coldly on the ground, she said, “Oh, Lenn… It’ll be all right,” and with a click of her tongue, pulled her back into a hug.
When Lenna was fully aware and as sharp as was possible, she pulled away again. She took a moment to take in Kendra—her hair and skin were the same rich, dark colors as her mother’s, and her eyes were wide and kind. Kendra was so gentle and loving in the same way her mother was. Or rather, the way her mother used to be. She was curvy, unlike Fay, but was glowing and healthy in the way she had been before she stopped eating. The reminder choked her up.
She tried to compose herself but still felt like she might cry. “It was—it is like she’s a totally different person. It’s like she’s barely there… But I’ve been riding recently.” Kendra gave her a knowing smile that lifted her spirits. “It was amazing… I mean, when you ride, you’re on top of everything. And so fast, the rush! Anyway, I talked to Mother about it, and she had this moment where she was elated. It was like she was there again. Just for a second. Then she just went back to how she was before. Maybe Remy and I should take her for a ride—”
“That’s great, I’m so glad you could give that to her,” but her smile started to turn sad. “But—you do know this, of course—that your mother has been doing very poorly. Feeling very poorly. She has been for a while, but Lenna, recently she has been hurting very much. Like you said, she isn’t all there. One day soon, you or Remy will have to take over and become Queen or King. If your father were here, of course… but he’s not. Since you’re the same age, you and your brother will have to take some tests to see who is better suited for ruling. I think I’ve taught you well enough to prepare you for this—or I sure hope so. I’m still here to support you and help you through this. I’m not sure who will make the decision, but it’d better be fair, or I’ll have a word with them…” She trailed off, and Lenna stared at her wide-eyed. She hadn’t had any idea how unprepared she was for all this. She wasn’t supposed to worry about this for years; yet here it was, striking her out of nowhere. “Well, you knew all this of course, but I’m sure it’s hard to… Oh, Lenn, it’s all right. I know this will be hard, with your mother and all. But this is what she wanted. This is what she wants. She wants one of you two to take over where she’s going to leave off. To honor her. And until then… well, it’s not my business, but I suppose we might need a regent.”
You. It will be you.
Lenna saw herself as if from outside her own body as she stared at Kendra, paralyzed. Her newfound love of horses had given her some hope, but now the idea of Fay becoming unable to function came back and drowned out any happy thoughts. Then after a long time—she couldn’t tell how long—her guardian’s voice pushed through the trance.
Do not fear. It will be yours.
At once Lenna could see Kendra’s concerned expression. She stepped back from her and rubbed her eyes. Her guardian was instilling in her an excitement that she was ashamed of. This whole castle—no, this whole kingdom—could be hers. She loved her mother, but there was something much bigger that she was beginning to care about. Her guardian’s plan made her believe that taking the throne was her destiny. She was torn between which part of her life was more important.
Kendra shook her shoulder lightly.
Everything around her was clear. “I think I’m ready.”
“Oh, dear, I know you are.” A small laugh escaped her.
“How do I start preparing? Does someone train me?”
“Yes—”
“Is it you?”
She laughed again and motioned to the babies around them. “Now, do you think I’m cut out for that? I can raise a baby, but teaching politics and etiquette and all that? I’m not so sure. There’s a man from Parliament who will train you both—”
She groaned. “I wish my mother could just train me.”
“Even if your mother were well and felt up to such a task, she is not the right person for the job. You need someone unbiased,” she explained patiently. “I know it’ll be tough to not have your mother close to watch you, but I think I almost fit into that role, hm? I did help raise you.”
It all rolled around in Lenna’s mind. “I miss her,” she said quietly before being brought into the safety of Kendra’s hug one last time.
“I know, Lenn. I know.”
○○○
On the outside, Lenna was walking through the castle gard
en, arms linked with her three friends, laughing and smelling the flowers. It seemed simple, happy. At the same time, she was weighed down by the thought of her mother’s problem. Even more so, she was weighed down by the thought that she might be okay without her mother, as long as she was Queen. It was all so heavy that she almost believed she would fall without the support of her friends’ arms. Kendra had hugged her several days before, and she felt that also helped hold her together. She was grateful for these things.
Lenna noticed her friend Avery had been talking to her. “What?”
“I said, my favorite flower was always the sunflower, Sierra’s is the calla lily, and Hael said her favorite is goldenrod, which is more of a weed than a flower, but she’s trying to be unique. What about you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I like wildflowers. Any wildflower.”
The three girls looked at each other with concern. “Are you okay, Lenna?” Sierra said.
Lenna was not okay, but she couldn’t tell her friends that. How could she? Would she say, “I’m upset because my mother, the Queen, is so sick she can barely talk to me or be a mother, let alone rule,” or would she say, “Part of me wants my mother to be out of the way so I can be Queen”? No, they wouldn’t understand, not with their cushy lives and perfect noble families.
Still heavy, she pasted a smile on her face and said, “Sorry. Yes, I’m fine.”
The girls continued to walk arm-in-arm through the rambling garden paths lined with huge, flourishing groups of flowers. They were all perfectly arranged—tallest flowers in the center, slowly getting shorter as they came closer to the paths. Butterflies of white, yellow, and shiny blue danced among them.
Slowly Lenna started to feel the paralyzing sadness come back, and tears welled up in her eyes. She broke the arm links and walked in front of them to hide her face. “What a nice spring day, isn’t it?” She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. It sounded mechanical, and her voice sounded strangled. She hoped they didn’t notice.