Chapter 21: An Unexpected Visit
"That is a VERY long story..." I tell Dallas. "Which I promise I'll tell you later on, when we know each other a little better."
I told them that Stellan and I are in an arranged engagement, but not about my mother and our family, or my true motives for coming. So, I didn't completely betray Woande's secrecy... Besides, I trust these girls. Not completely yet, but enough to know that they won't betray my powers for no reason. Dallas, though, might be distrustful of me.
"Okay." The girls say. "Can we help you get dressed?"
"If you want to, you don't have to. I can dress myself." I say. They look at me like they've never heard anything so scandalous.
"We'll get you in a nightgown." They say with finality.
"Okay."
They go to the dresser, which has apparently been filled with clothes of my size. The collection also includes a fairly suspicious amount of lacy underwear. Ugh. Dallas and Delilah pull a frilly lime green nightgown from the drawer, while Dahlia undoes my buttons and slips off my travel attire. Then I stand there in my underwear until the girls slip the nightgown over my head, buttoning and tying it in the back. It's soft as silk and by far the prettiest sleepwear I've ever worn. It's a straight, long sleeve, icy green flanel gown that hangs about to my knees and is lined with lace.
Then Dahlia hands me a pair of matching slippers to put on. I slip them onto my feet. Then they sit me down in front of the elaborately painted floral vanity and unbraid my hair. Then, when they're done, they all step back into a respectful line and curtsy.
"Our work here is done." Says Delilah.
"Unless you need somethng else?" Asks Dallas. I shake my head.
Dahlia nods. "Then we bid you adue, Your Highness."
"Farewell." I say to them with a smile. "Oh, wait, where is my servant's quarters?"
I know they live somewhere near my room, but I want to know where Byronn will be sleeping.
"Just through this passage," says Delilah, pushing out a panel in the wall just like in the book Anastasia.
Then Dallas adds, "You can ring this bell if you need us."
She gestures to the bell and then steps into the musty wooden passage after her sisters, replacing the panel behind them.
With that, I sit down on the big, white canopy bed with intricately embroidered linens and an artisan quilt designed with circles in beautiful pastel colors. Stellan has obviously spared no expense in the design of my room. I sigh and move to the widnow seat. There's a soft cushion with throw pillows of different shapes and sizes and a small throw blanket that matches the bed.
I sit on the edge, careful not to wrinkle it. It all looks so nice, I couldn't bear to mess anything up. As I look out the window, I let my eyes linger on the hollow disrepair of the castle grounds. The once-proud architecture is erroded and dusty. The once-fruitful gardens are wildly unkempt. The once-enchanting fountains are covered in mold and lime deposits. The statues are covered in moss and bird droppings.
Looking out at it all, I wish there was somthing I could do to fix it. Then I realize that there is. What if I married Stellan? I would become queen of Goronglia and could fix whatever I wanted. In fact, I could probably do it even as a guest. I could bring hope and light back into the cruel world of Gorongl's sorrow. Even as I think it, I know it's an impossible task. Besides, Stellan is cruel and I think I favor Byronn over him. I also have a responsibility to my father and my kingdom.
My first task is to make peace between the two countries. If I have to marry Stellan to make peace, then so be it. If, however, I can find another way that won't cause a war, I'd like that much better. Just stealing mother away wouldn't resolve any problems and Flabnoria doesn't have the resources for a war. What we need is... allies! That's it! I can have Woande and Cadarum ambassador to the surrounding countries. I'll think about that later, though. Right now, Byronn is knocking on the door and it's time for me to finally meet my mother.
* * *
I turn on my mind link with Woande as we climb into the servant's passage and down several rickety ladders. At the bottom, there are stone steps leading down into the ground, to a wooden door. We're in the castle basement level. Byronn pulls a key out from the side board of the door frame and unlocks the door. Then he slips the key into his pocket, leads me through the door, and shuts it behind us.
Then he tells me to stay put as he walks forward and peers around the corner. He gives me a thumbs up and I follow him through a hallway with prison cells lining both sides. The first few are empty,covered in dust, but as we progress I can see that some of them are occupied. The first prisoner I see is a young woman. She wears the same uniform as the triplets, but hers is grubby and torn. It's also blood stained. She lies on the ground, breathing heavily, but incoherent.
The next cell is occupied by a muscled, middle-aged man with scraggly black hair and a rock in his fist. He looks like trouble. The next cell has, not only bars, but a wire screen as well. It looks vacant, but a closer look reveals that a small bed sits on the ledge. It's small enough for... a pixie! Flying around in the cell with dragonfly wings, I now see the reason for the screen. I slow down to watch her for a minute, and Byronn tugs me away toward the end of the corridor.
At the end of the corridor, there is a thick wooden door next to a wooden slot that looks like a mailbox. We walk straight up to it and Byronn knocks. A feminine voice responds.
"Password?" Requests the voice.
"Flabnorius." Says Byronn.
"Woande! Are you there?" I ask. "We're about to meet Mom!"
"Oh my gosh! I can't even! I'm so exited right now!" Woande responds.
"I'm nervous! What if she's disappointed?" I ask Woande.
"Now why in the world would she be disappointed?! She is probably ecstatic to see you!" Says Woande.
I give Woande permission to see through my eyes. The door opens and my eyes are met by a simple, rustic room filled with minimal log furniture. In the back corner, there is a little log cot with a hand-sewn quilt on it. In the center of the back wall is a small wood stove with a kettle on it. Next to it is a log rocking chair with a quilted cushion. At the foot of the bed there is a small dresser, and behind the rocking chair there is a small wood barrel tub for bathing. On the front wall, out of view from the door, sits a quaint little book shelf filled with spell books, letters, and stationary. On the other side of the door is a small desk with a sitting stool.
Sitting at the desk is a beautiful woman with hair so brown it looks black, peircing green eyes like Woande's, a gold band around her forehead, and a black hooded cloak. Her feet are bare and her hands are covered by black gloves. Beneath the cloak, the woman wears a black dress and corset. Her skin is as fair as ivory and her lips as pink as watermelon. If I had to choose one word to describe her, it would be 'enchanting.' She is everything I thought she'd be and more. In her posture, she carries the presentation of a Queen. In her eyes, youthful awe and the shadow of sorrow. In her smile, the motherly comfort to which there is no compare. Looking at her, I feel something I have never felt before; a sort of innocent affection for the woman who brought me into existence. I can feel mutual emotions emanating from Woande's mind.
"Flerbery? Is that you?" She says, rising from her seat and coming toward me. I'm not sure how to react, so I just stand there with tear-filled eyes as she reaches for me with hesitant arms. I rush into them, desperate for the mother-daughter compassion that I have been deprived of all these years. I can't help it, I break into tears in my mother's arms, and soon I can feel her sobs, too. She cries in the beautiful way that some women are blessed with. Her tears stream form the center of her eyes, down her cheeks, and pool up beneath her chin. When she pulls back to look at me, I wipe my tears away on the sleeve of my nightgown, hoping not to smudge my coal-lined eyes.
Mother looks me up and down, as if she's making sure I'm real. "What are you doing here? You look so look like your grandmother."
I laugh nervously and say, "Woande looks more like you than I do."
"Tell mom I say hi!" Yells Woande mentally.
"Woande says hello." I tell Mother.
"Where is she?" asks Mother.
I answer. "She's back in Shmubnoria. Only I could make it."
"Tell her I said hello. You can use the mind link that far apart?" She asks incredulously. I don't tell Woande; she can hear for herself.
"Yes." I reply. "Based on my reading, I would assume it's because we are closer mentally than most telepathic connections. Also, studies show that common genetic material factors in long distance telepathy."
My mother's expression fills with pride. "You're so intelligent, just like I knew you would be. I'll bet Woande is, too."
"She is...sort of. She has her moments. I can give you a memory of Woande, if you want." I offer. She nods.
"Woande, send me a memory of yourself so that Mom can see you." I tell Woande.
"Okay."
Woande sends me a memory of herself looking into the mirror in our bathroom. In the memory, I come up behind her and tell her she looks pretty. It's ironic because at the time of the memory, the morning of our seventeenth birthday, we were still under the innocent pretense of half-orphaned princess-hood. How I wish I could go back to that time, when I was free of responsibility, able to simply study every day, never worrying about war with neighboring countries, not arranged marriages, or bailing my mother out of a dungeon, or...anything. Woande and I had not a care in the world.
"Focus Flerb!" Woande commands. I sense that she misses the old days, too.
"Right."
I get back on track and imagine the memory as a tiny ball of blue light traveling under my skin to my hand. I hold my palm toward mother and she presses her palm against mine. I picture the blue light traveling into her hand. The memory isn't actually visible, but the illustration of the blue ball gives me a better sense of manipulating it. Mother closes her eyes to watch the memory and smiles.
"She has my eyes." Says Mother. "And Flabnorius's jawline. What a beautiful girl. You both are."
I nod in agreement to Woande's beauty. I can feel Woande's pride through our telepathy. Then Mother says, "Sit, please, both of you."
She takes the rocking chair and Byronn and I sit side by side on the cot. This prison cell isn't bad, but it's different than the other ones. The others just have a stone sledge for a bed and a pot. Mother's cell looks more like a small cottage even has a small bathroom in the corner with a screen around it. She doesn't live a good life, but better than I thought she did, I hope.
"So tell me. How has our family been these past years? I've heard nothing but what Byronn tells me, and he isn't very close to you girls." Says Mother. Ha! Not close to me! If only...
"Hehe." Says Woande, laughing mentally. "Not close to you..."
"Well, I don't know if Byronn told you, but Father erased our memories of you to keep us from missing you. He told us you were dead." She nods. "Then, on our birthday, he told us the truth about everything. Then he said he had arranged for a double arranged marriage. He wants us to marry the princes of Goronglia so that you can go free and there'll be peace between the countries once more."
"What?!" She cries, outraged. "You can't allow him to do that!"
"I don't want it either, but it might be what is necessary for peace. I'm going to ask Woande if she will make alliances with all the nearby countries in case of a war. I will do anything to avoid this marriage, but it might be what needs to happen. Don't worry, no matter what, we'll get you home." I promise her.
"Oh by the way, Woande, will you make alliances with the surrounding countries?" I ask.
"Yeah, but we'll talk about it later." Replies Woande.
She begins to tear up again. "You're so grown up and determined. Where did my helpless babe disappear to?"
"Oh, her? She died along with the comforting lies of my childhood." I say sarcastic/melodramatically. "Now she's in the real world."
Mother chuckles. "Ah, I see. The real world tends to have that affect on people."
Byronn pulls a brass pocket watch from his breeches and checks the time. "Princess Flerbery, the guards will be back soon. It's time for us to go."
I nod. "Okay, when can we come back?"
"I don't know yet. As soon as I see another opportunity, I'll tell you. I hear footsteps and the jingle of keys at the dungeon's main entrance. We came in the service entrance.
"We have to go!" Says Byronn, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the way came in.
"Wait!" Says Mother. "Are you staying in the castle somewhere?"
I nod.
"Take these with you, in case you don't visit me soon!" Says Mother in a rushed tone, handing me a small pile of worn, leatherbound books. "They're my journals all the way from when I first discovered my powers. Unfortunately, The early ones were... damaged."
I take them gratefully and quickly embrace my mother, then I rush out the door after Byronn just in time to hear the main door open. I peek throught the crack in the door that I just exited and see that my mother's door is shut and looks just as it did when we came in. I see that the person who opened the main door is not a guard, as I thought, but a tall, thin man with black hair. Stellan.
He knocks loudly and abruptly on the door.
"Password?" Asks Amaris.
"I have a key." Snaps Stellan. "I don't need a password."
No answer comes from Mother as he shoves the key in the lock and turns it. The door falls open and Mother is sitting in the rocking chair. He walks in and sits down on her bed.
Then he says coldly. "I sent the servants down with your dinner. They should be here soon."
She doesn't respond, just looks at her hands folded in her lap.
"You're so grateful." Says Stellan bitterly. "As always."
"Yes. Well, as always, I don't owe you any gratitude. Just like I tell you every time we have this same conversation. Every day." Mother says, with a tone filled with bitter hatred. Then she looks up and fixes him with a steel-cold glare.
"Those words will have consequences." Says Stellan, standing up. My whole body tenses up.
"He wouldn't..." I think to Woande. "...would he?"
Woande responds only with anxious silence. I watch as Stellan steps closer to my mother.
"Get up." He commands.
She remains seated.
Stellan demands, "Do you always have to be so stubborn. I could go without beating you all the time, if you--" Mother cuts him off.
"If I what?! Willingly became your slave, pretended to be your dead mother, and submitted to Gorongl's every will?!" Cries Mother. "If I had any useful powers, I'd burn off your appendages with oil until you were so hideous I couldn't look at you without vomiting and then I'd---"
SLAP! Stellan hits her hard across the face. I start toward the door, but Byronn grabs my arms and holds me there.
Woande cries out, "Flerb! He just hit her! Do something!"
"We'll get her out of here soon, don't mess up our chances by retaliating." Byronn says as he holds me back.
I don't respond. Woande agrees with Byronn, without words. I just watch anxiously as he pulls his hand back to slap her again. SLAP! Her mouth is bleeding now, but she still looks as proud as ever. She won't be inferior to him and he knows it, so he's just using his physical advantage to release frustration about her being better than him.
The violent side of me knows that Stellan will suffer for what he's done to my mother. I will give him what he gave her and so much more. I will made him bleed. I will make him bruise. I will make him break. I will make him burn. I will make him cry. I will make him scream. And then, I will make him succumb to nothing.
The feeling of leaden anger crashes over me like an ocean wave in a violent storm. Not the frustrated kind of anger; the kind that sinks into one's soul and shrouds them in heavy layers of bitter hatred. The kind that doesn't leave you until it's cause has been eradicated. Call me melodramatic, but I won't give up until this filthy worm of a man is begging me to put him out of his misery. Actually, even then I won't give up. I'll let him slowly die on his body's own terms.
Byronn wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me back to my room. I sit down on the bed and try not to think. As expected, I fail. I just know this has been going on for years. Before now, I hadn't taken the time to think about what mother's conditions were, or even how I was going to deal with all this while I was in Goronglia.
I begin to sniffle and whimper. For the past seventeen years, Woande and I have lived in a magic bubble of fruadulent serenity. The real world is shocking and my Father hasn't done anything to stop Gorongl's abuse. The whole kingdom of Goronglia lives in misfortune, and all because my father was afraid. But of what...? Oh! Gorongl had Mother! He was afraid that they would... you know. He chose Mother's welfare over an entire country's, because he loves her.
"Woande? Did you hear all that? I figured it out!" I tell her excitedly.
"Right Flerb. I'm sure this is really gonna help Mom! Who is down there being abused! Physical violence, Flerb!" She yells. "If I were there I would have killed everyone by now!"
I snap defensively, "Which is exactly why I'm here and you aren't. And what are you doing to help Mother? Sitting around in some Shmubnorian cabin with Prince Charming?"
Woande is truly offended by these words. "Well, you didn't exactly tell me what to do!"
"I thought maybe you could figure something out on your own for a change. Just because I'm slightly older doesn't mean I have to tell you everything!" I scream back. Well, mind-scream, anyway.
Woande scoffs. "If you weren't such a stuboorn brat, maybe you would try to see things my way!"
"See things your way?!" I cry. "If I saw things your way, there would be widespread chaos! I'm trying to be diplomatic, not start a war!"
"Wouldn't Mom be safer if you broke her out?!" Woande demands.
I laugh. "You just asked me if Mother would be safer if we had an all-out war on our hands!"
"You know what, Flerb?!" Says Woande. "I'm done! You do whatever you think is right! Tilly knows you'll do that anyway! Just know that you won't have my support."
"What?! Woande? We're in this together! I need you to get us allies! Please Woande, I can't do this alone! I'm in a far-off country full of violence and sin, I have no idea how to save my imprisoned mother, I have to marry the person who imprisoned my mother, and now you're leaving me too?!" I plead, but it's too late. Woande is gone and her mind is blocked. I turn to look at Byronn, the only familiar thing in this alien setting, and see that he is looking back. But he looks confused.
"What was that about?" He asks. "Were you talking to Woande?"
"Wha--" Then I realize I must have started talking out loud when Woande blocked me out. "Oh. Yes, I was. She has adjucated to deduct her collaboration from this significant operation."
"So, she's not helping us anymore?" I nod to him. "Sorry, I thought that's what you meant, but I wasn't sure. You use big words when you're upset."
"Yes, well inhabiting a consummately contradistinctive ambience from one's methodial practice can perturb a person who is oblivious to the immorality of socitey's principles!" I counter. "And I do not use extensive terminology when I am apprehensive!"
"Hey, hey. Calm down. 'Extensive terminology' is a good thing. It shows how smart you are and, as smart as you are, I know you will figure this out and make the right decision for everyone; in every kingdom. Woande will come around. She wants the best for your Mother, but you see the needs of everyone. I trust you to make the right decision and I'm sure your father would say the same. Woande just has different priorities. Just remember to see Woande's priorities as well as your own and if she is willing, include her in things that contribute to her priority." Says Byronn collectedly.
I nod and pat the bed next to me for Byronn to sit. He does so and the moment he does, I lay my head down on his shoulder and sigh.
"I have no idea where to start, By. My mind looks like Stellan's suitcase. It's a disaster." I tell him. He chuckles and puts his arm around me.
"Well, you have dinner with the king in an hour and the girls will be here to get you ready in about forty-five minutes. So how about we start thinking all of this over tomorrow. We can even make you a nice, neat little to-do list for your rebellion. We'll start there." He says.
I smile and nod my agreement, glad to have some sense of direction again. Then he gets a mischevious look in his eyes, wraps his arms around me, and rolls me over so that we lie side-by-side on the bed. He puts his face right next to mine and says, "Actually let's start here." and presses his lips to mine. All my anxiety is momentarily forgotten...
I told them that Stellan and I are in an arranged engagement, but not about my mother and our family, or my true motives for coming. So, I didn't completely betray Woande's secrecy... Besides, I trust these girls. Not completely yet, but enough to know that they won't betray my powers for no reason. Dallas, though, might be distrustful of me.
"Okay." The girls say. "Can we help you get dressed?"
"If you want to, you don't have to. I can dress myself." I say. They look at me like they've never heard anything so scandalous.
"We'll get you in a nightgown." They say with finality.
"Okay."
They go to the dresser, which has apparently been filled with clothes of my size. The collection also includes a fairly suspicious amount of lacy underwear. Ugh. Dallas and Delilah pull a frilly lime green nightgown from the drawer, while Dahlia undoes my buttons and slips off my travel attire. Then I stand there in my underwear until the girls slip the nightgown over my head, buttoning and tying it in the back. It's soft as silk and by far the prettiest sleepwear I've ever worn. It's a straight, long sleeve, icy green flanel gown that hangs about to my knees and is lined with lace.
Then Dahlia hands me a pair of matching slippers to put on. I slip them onto my feet. Then they sit me down in front of the elaborately painted floral vanity and unbraid my hair. Then, when they're done, they all step back into a respectful line and curtsy.
"Our work here is done." Says Delilah.
"Unless you need somethng else?" Asks Dallas. I shake my head.
Dahlia nods. "Then we bid you adue, Your Highness."
"Farewell." I say to them with a smile. "Oh, wait, where is my servant's quarters?"
I know they live somewhere near my room, but I want to know where Byronn will be sleeping.
"Just through this passage," says Delilah, pushing out a panel in the wall just like in the book Anastasia.
Then Dallas adds, "You can ring this bell if you need us."
She gestures to the bell and then steps into the musty wooden passage after her sisters, replacing the panel behind them.
With that, I sit down on the big, white canopy bed with intricately embroidered linens and an artisan quilt designed with circles in beautiful pastel colors. Stellan has obviously spared no expense in the design of my room. I sigh and move to the widnow seat. There's a soft cushion with throw pillows of different shapes and sizes and a small throw blanket that matches the bed.
I sit on the edge, careful not to wrinkle it. It all looks so nice, I couldn't bear to mess anything up. As I look out the window, I let my eyes linger on the hollow disrepair of the castle grounds. The once-proud architecture is erroded and dusty. The once-fruitful gardens are wildly unkempt. The once-enchanting fountains are covered in mold and lime deposits. The statues are covered in moss and bird droppings.
Looking out at it all, I wish there was somthing I could do to fix it. Then I realize that there is. What if I married Stellan? I would become queen of Goronglia and could fix whatever I wanted. In fact, I could probably do it even as a guest. I could bring hope and light back into the cruel world of Gorongl's sorrow. Even as I think it, I know it's an impossible task. Besides, Stellan is cruel and I think I favor Byronn over him. I also have a responsibility to my father and my kingdom.
My first task is to make peace between the two countries. If I have to marry Stellan to make peace, then so be it. If, however, I can find another way that won't cause a war, I'd like that much better. Just stealing mother away wouldn't resolve any problems and Flabnoria doesn't have the resources for a war. What we need is... allies! That's it! I can have Woande and Cadarum ambassador to the surrounding countries. I'll think about that later, though. Right now, Byronn is knocking on the door and it's time for me to finally meet my mother.
* * *
I turn on my mind link with Woande as we climb into the servant's passage and down several rickety ladders. At the bottom, there are stone steps leading down into the ground, to a wooden door. We're in the castle basement level. Byronn pulls a key out from the side board of the door frame and unlocks the door. Then he slips the key into his pocket, leads me through the door, and shuts it behind us.
Then he tells me to stay put as he walks forward and peers around the corner. He gives me a thumbs up and I follow him through a hallway with prison cells lining both sides. The first few are empty,covered in dust, but as we progress I can see that some of them are occupied. The first prisoner I see is a young woman. She wears the same uniform as the triplets, but hers is grubby and torn. It's also blood stained. She lies on the ground, breathing heavily, but incoherent.
The next cell is occupied by a muscled, middle-aged man with scraggly black hair and a rock in his fist. He looks like trouble. The next cell has, not only bars, but a wire screen as well. It looks vacant, but a closer look reveals that a small bed sits on the ledge. It's small enough for... a pixie! Flying around in the cell with dragonfly wings, I now see the reason for the screen. I slow down to watch her for a minute, and Byronn tugs me away toward the end of the corridor.
At the end of the corridor, there is a thick wooden door next to a wooden slot that looks like a mailbox. We walk straight up to it and Byronn knocks. A feminine voice responds.
"Password?" Requests the voice.
"Flabnorius." Says Byronn.
"Woande! Are you there?" I ask. "We're about to meet Mom!"
"Oh my gosh! I can't even! I'm so exited right now!" Woande responds.
"I'm nervous! What if she's disappointed?" I ask Woande.
"Now why in the world would she be disappointed?! She is probably ecstatic to see you!" Says Woande.
I give Woande permission to see through my eyes. The door opens and my eyes are met by a simple, rustic room filled with minimal log furniture. In the back corner, there is a little log cot with a hand-sewn quilt on it. In the center of the back wall is a small wood stove with a kettle on it. Next to it is a log rocking chair with a quilted cushion. At the foot of the bed there is a small dresser, and behind the rocking chair there is a small wood barrel tub for bathing. On the front wall, out of view from the door, sits a quaint little book shelf filled with spell books, letters, and stationary. On the other side of the door is a small desk with a sitting stool.
Sitting at the desk is a beautiful woman with hair so brown it looks black, peircing green eyes like Woande's, a gold band around her forehead, and a black hooded cloak. Her feet are bare and her hands are covered by black gloves. Beneath the cloak, the woman wears a black dress and corset. Her skin is as fair as ivory and her lips as pink as watermelon. If I had to choose one word to describe her, it would be 'enchanting.' She is everything I thought she'd be and more. In her posture, she carries the presentation of a Queen. In her eyes, youthful awe and the shadow of sorrow. In her smile, the motherly comfort to which there is no compare. Looking at her, I feel something I have never felt before; a sort of innocent affection for the woman who brought me into existence. I can feel mutual emotions emanating from Woande's mind.
"Flerbery? Is that you?" She says, rising from her seat and coming toward me. I'm not sure how to react, so I just stand there with tear-filled eyes as she reaches for me with hesitant arms. I rush into them, desperate for the mother-daughter compassion that I have been deprived of all these years. I can't help it, I break into tears in my mother's arms, and soon I can feel her sobs, too. She cries in the beautiful way that some women are blessed with. Her tears stream form the center of her eyes, down her cheeks, and pool up beneath her chin. When she pulls back to look at me, I wipe my tears away on the sleeve of my nightgown, hoping not to smudge my coal-lined eyes.
Mother looks me up and down, as if she's making sure I'm real. "What are you doing here? You look so look like your grandmother."
I laugh nervously and say, "Woande looks more like you than I do."
"Tell mom I say hi!" Yells Woande mentally.
"Woande says hello." I tell Mother.
"Where is she?" asks Mother.
I answer. "She's back in Shmubnoria. Only I could make it."
"Tell her I said hello. You can use the mind link that far apart?" She asks incredulously. I don't tell Woande; she can hear for herself.
"Yes." I reply. "Based on my reading, I would assume it's because we are closer mentally than most telepathic connections. Also, studies show that common genetic material factors in long distance telepathy."
My mother's expression fills with pride. "You're so intelligent, just like I knew you would be. I'll bet Woande is, too."
"She is...sort of. She has her moments. I can give you a memory of Woande, if you want." I offer. She nods.
"Woande, send me a memory of yourself so that Mom can see you." I tell Woande.
"Okay."
Woande sends me a memory of herself looking into the mirror in our bathroom. In the memory, I come up behind her and tell her she looks pretty. It's ironic because at the time of the memory, the morning of our seventeenth birthday, we were still under the innocent pretense of half-orphaned princess-hood. How I wish I could go back to that time, when I was free of responsibility, able to simply study every day, never worrying about war with neighboring countries, not arranged marriages, or bailing my mother out of a dungeon, or...anything. Woande and I had not a care in the world.
"Focus Flerb!" Woande commands. I sense that she misses the old days, too.
"Right."
I get back on track and imagine the memory as a tiny ball of blue light traveling under my skin to my hand. I hold my palm toward mother and she presses her palm against mine. I picture the blue light traveling into her hand. The memory isn't actually visible, but the illustration of the blue ball gives me a better sense of manipulating it. Mother closes her eyes to watch the memory and smiles.
"She has my eyes." Says Mother. "And Flabnorius's jawline. What a beautiful girl. You both are."
I nod in agreement to Woande's beauty. I can feel Woande's pride through our telepathy. Then Mother says, "Sit, please, both of you."
She takes the rocking chair and Byronn and I sit side by side on the cot. This prison cell isn't bad, but it's different than the other ones. The others just have a stone sledge for a bed and a pot. Mother's cell looks more like a small cottage even has a small bathroom in the corner with a screen around it. She doesn't live a good life, but better than I thought she did, I hope.
"So tell me. How has our family been these past years? I've heard nothing but what Byronn tells me, and he isn't very close to you girls." Says Mother. Ha! Not close to me! If only...
"Hehe." Says Woande, laughing mentally. "Not close to you..."
"Well, I don't know if Byronn told you, but Father erased our memories of you to keep us from missing you. He told us you were dead." She nods. "Then, on our birthday, he told us the truth about everything. Then he said he had arranged for a double arranged marriage. He wants us to marry the princes of Goronglia so that you can go free and there'll be peace between the countries once more."
"What?!" She cries, outraged. "You can't allow him to do that!"
"I don't want it either, but it might be what is necessary for peace. I'm going to ask Woande if she will make alliances with all the nearby countries in case of a war. I will do anything to avoid this marriage, but it might be what needs to happen. Don't worry, no matter what, we'll get you home." I promise her.
"Oh by the way, Woande, will you make alliances with the surrounding countries?" I ask.
"Yeah, but we'll talk about it later." Replies Woande.
She begins to tear up again. "You're so grown up and determined. Where did my helpless babe disappear to?"
"Oh, her? She died along with the comforting lies of my childhood." I say sarcastic/melodramatically. "Now she's in the real world."
Mother chuckles. "Ah, I see. The real world tends to have that affect on people."
Byronn pulls a brass pocket watch from his breeches and checks the time. "Princess Flerbery, the guards will be back soon. It's time for us to go."
I nod. "Okay, when can we come back?"
"I don't know yet. As soon as I see another opportunity, I'll tell you. I hear footsteps and the jingle of keys at the dungeon's main entrance. We came in the service entrance.
"We have to go!" Says Byronn, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the way came in.
"Wait!" Says Mother. "Are you staying in the castle somewhere?"
I nod.
"Take these with you, in case you don't visit me soon!" Says Mother in a rushed tone, handing me a small pile of worn, leatherbound books. "They're my journals all the way from when I first discovered my powers. Unfortunately, The early ones were... damaged."
I take them gratefully and quickly embrace my mother, then I rush out the door after Byronn just in time to hear the main door open. I peek throught the crack in the door that I just exited and see that my mother's door is shut and looks just as it did when we came in. I see that the person who opened the main door is not a guard, as I thought, but a tall, thin man with black hair. Stellan.
He knocks loudly and abruptly on the door.
"Password?" Asks Amaris.
"I have a key." Snaps Stellan. "I don't need a password."
No answer comes from Mother as he shoves the key in the lock and turns it. The door falls open and Mother is sitting in the rocking chair. He walks in and sits down on her bed.
Then he says coldly. "I sent the servants down with your dinner. They should be here soon."
She doesn't respond, just looks at her hands folded in her lap.
"You're so grateful." Says Stellan bitterly. "As always."
"Yes. Well, as always, I don't owe you any gratitude. Just like I tell you every time we have this same conversation. Every day." Mother says, with a tone filled with bitter hatred. Then she looks up and fixes him with a steel-cold glare.
"Those words will have consequences." Says Stellan, standing up. My whole body tenses up.
"He wouldn't..." I think to Woande. "...would he?"
Woande responds only with anxious silence. I watch as Stellan steps closer to my mother.
"Get up." He commands.
She remains seated.
Stellan demands, "Do you always have to be so stubborn. I could go without beating you all the time, if you--" Mother cuts him off.
"If I what?! Willingly became your slave, pretended to be your dead mother, and submitted to Gorongl's every will?!" Cries Mother. "If I had any useful powers, I'd burn off your appendages with oil until you were so hideous I couldn't look at you without vomiting and then I'd---"
SLAP! Stellan hits her hard across the face. I start toward the door, but Byronn grabs my arms and holds me there.
Woande cries out, "Flerb! He just hit her! Do something!"
"We'll get her out of here soon, don't mess up our chances by retaliating." Byronn says as he holds me back.
I don't respond. Woande agrees with Byronn, without words. I just watch anxiously as he pulls his hand back to slap her again. SLAP! Her mouth is bleeding now, but she still looks as proud as ever. She won't be inferior to him and he knows it, so he's just using his physical advantage to release frustration about her being better than him.
The violent side of me knows that Stellan will suffer for what he's done to my mother. I will give him what he gave her and so much more. I will made him bleed. I will make him bruise. I will make him break. I will make him burn. I will make him cry. I will make him scream. And then, I will make him succumb to nothing.
The feeling of leaden anger crashes over me like an ocean wave in a violent storm. Not the frustrated kind of anger; the kind that sinks into one's soul and shrouds them in heavy layers of bitter hatred. The kind that doesn't leave you until it's cause has been eradicated. Call me melodramatic, but I won't give up until this filthy worm of a man is begging me to put him out of his misery. Actually, even then I won't give up. I'll let him slowly die on his body's own terms.
Byronn wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me back to my room. I sit down on the bed and try not to think. As expected, I fail. I just know this has been going on for years. Before now, I hadn't taken the time to think about what mother's conditions were, or even how I was going to deal with all this while I was in Goronglia.
I begin to sniffle and whimper. For the past seventeen years, Woande and I have lived in a magic bubble of fruadulent serenity. The real world is shocking and my Father hasn't done anything to stop Gorongl's abuse. The whole kingdom of Goronglia lives in misfortune, and all because my father was afraid. But of what...? Oh! Gorongl had Mother! He was afraid that they would... you know. He chose Mother's welfare over an entire country's, because he loves her.
"Woande? Did you hear all that? I figured it out!" I tell her excitedly.
"Right Flerb. I'm sure this is really gonna help Mom! Who is down there being abused! Physical violence, Flerb!" She yells. "If I were there I would have killed everyone by now!"
I snap defensively, "Which is exactly why I'm here and you aren't. And what are you doing to help Mother? Sitting around in some Shmubnorian cabin with Prince Charming?"
Woande is truly offended by these words. "Well, you didn't exactly tell me what to do!"
"I thought maybe you could figure something out on your own for a change. Just because I'm slightly older doesn't mean I have to tell you everything!" I scream back. Well, mind-scream, anyway.
Woande scoffs. "If you weren't such a stuboorn brat, maybe you would try to see things my way!"
"See things your way?!" I cry. "If I saw things your way, there would be widespread chaos! I'm trying to be diplomatic, not start a war!"
"Wouldn't Mom be safer if you broke her out?!" Woande demands.
I laugh. "You just asked me if Mother would be safer if we had an all-out war on our hands!"
"You know what, Flerb?!" Says Woande. "I'm done! You do whatever you think is right! Tilly knows you'll do that anyway! Just know that you won't have my support."
"What?! Woande? We're in this together! I need you to get us allies! Please Woande, I can't do this alone! I'm in a far-off country full of violence and sin, I have no idea how to save my imprisoned mother, I have to marry the person who imprisoned my mother, and now you're leaving me too?!" I plead, but it's too late. Woande is gone and her mind is blocked. I turn to look at Byronn, the only familiar thing in this alien setting, and see that he is looking back. But he looks confused.
"What was that about?" He asks. "Were you talking to Woande?"
"Wha--" Then I realize I must have started talking out loud when Woande blocked me out. "Oh. Yes, I was. She has adjucated to deduct her collaboration from this significant operation."
"So, she's not helping us anymore?" I nod to him. "Sorry, I thought that's what you meant, but I wasn't sure. You use big words when you're upset."
"Yes, well inhabiting a consummately contradistinctive ambience from one's methodial practice can perturb a person who is oblivious to the immorality of socitey's principles!" I counter. "And I do not use extensive terminology when I am apprehensive!"
"Hey, hey. Calm down. 'Extensive terminology' is a good thing. It shows how smart you are and, as smart as you are, I know you will figure this out and make the right decision for everyone; in every kingdom. Woande will come around. She wants the best for your Mother, but you see the needs of everyone. I trust you to make the right decision and I'm sure your father would say the same. Woande just has different priorities. Just remember to see Woande's priorities as well as your own and if she is willing, include her in things that contribute to her priority." Says Byronn collectedly.
I nod and pat the bed next to me for Byronn to sit. He does so and the moment he does, I lay my head down on his shoulder and sigh.
"I have no idea where to start, By. My mind looks like Stellan's suitcase. It's a disaster." I tell him. He chuckles and puts his arm around me.
"Well, you have dinner with the king in an hour and the girls will be here to get you ready in about forty-five minutes. So how about we start thinking all of this over tomorrow. We can even make you a nice, neat little to-do list for your rebellion. We'll start there." He says.
I smile and nod my agreement, glad to have some sense of direction again. Then he gets a mischevious look in his eyes, wraps his arms around me, and rolls me over so that we lie side-by-side on the bed. He puts his face right next to mine and says, "Actually let's start here." and presses his lips to mine. All my anxiety is momentarily forgotten...