I was in the darkness
So the darkness I became
The last thing she remembered thinking before drifting peacefully off to sleep was “My, the moon is bright tonight.”
She had chosen a thick grove of pines. It was almost like a cove, totally surrounded but open at the front. The pine needles provided her a mattress, while the filtered moonlight gave her just enough light to see. It was an unusually bright moon, and its beams had even managed to break through the ever-present fog. Somewhere across the Valley a lone wolf called, its forlorn howl ringing sharp through the clear fall air. Soon its comrades responded, and the Valley had become a symphony of predatory calls. Smiling a small smile, the grulla queen drifted off to the unlikely lullaby.
Hours passed, or perhaps it was only minutes. Time was a foreign concept to those in a deep slumber. Sunshine filtered through a dirty window pane, and the mousey-haired girl grimaced in her sleep. However long had passed it was still to early to rise. But the sun would not be denied as it rose higher in the blue sky. A sigh slipped from between her full lips, her breast heaving as the air passed from her lungs. The girl opened her eyes; eyes that were hers and not hers all at the same time. She knew a moment of confusion as she looked down her nude body. Where there had been hooves were now hands and feet. What were once legs were now slender arms and legs. The pine needles had been replaced with something softer, perhaps some type of bird feathers. She raised her hand to her face, feeling a small nose and full lips, ears on the side rather than at the top. Her hair was softer and more or less the same color it had been when she had been an equine. Opening her mouth she laughed out loud- being a horse was such an absurd thought! Now that she had gotten her bearings, the horse seemed like some far-off dream. People, which she clearly was, could not be horses. Clearly the bright moonlight had blessed her with some strange dreams, and that was all. With that merry thought she threw the blanket back from her bare legs and set her feet on the rough wooden floor. It was a beautiful day, and even through the soot-covered windows she could see the clear blue beckoning her. A corset and dress hung from a small hook on the wall. Through some unknown instinct she headed towards it, pulling and pushing the fabric as needed until the fit was just right. It was a simple dress, made of a pale blue cotton blend and trimmed in a cream-colored lace. The lace was frayed and dingy in places, but otherwise she looked beautiful. Looking in a mirror she piled her hair atop her head, though several soft curls fell down to frame her pretty face. With a final smile she threw open the front door, ready to face the gorgeous day that beckoned to her.
Her small cabin stood on the outskirts of the kingdom, along a dirt road that led directly into the town square. It was a busy road on a normal day, but today was different. Today their small kingdom was thrumming with excitement and tension alike. The small road had become a major thoroughfare, and the girl could scarcely see anything for the dust raised by hooves and wagon wheels. She set out on foot along the side of the road, careful to stay off to the side and not in the way of the trotting horses. On both sides of the road were people like her. Some were richer, some were poorer, but all were curious. Rumors had been swirling through the kingdom as of late, and even the deaf, dumb and blind had some idea of what was going on. Rebellion was stirring like a hornets nest, and while Topsail had her own thoughts on the whole ordeal, she was smart enough to leave well enough alone. After all, what could one mousey-haired girl do to change anything anyways?
It did not take long to reach the square. Not that she had much of a choice, given the vast amount of people heading in that direction. It seemed everyone- young and old, poor and rich -had made their way to town today. There were jovial voices and anxious whispers, broken up occasionally by the laughter of frolicking children. Topsail stood off to the side, out of the hustle and bustle but still close enough to hear clearly. A woman spoke to her and Topsail offered her a non-committal smile. Now was neither the time nor the place to get in a long winded discussion about politics. Turning from the woman and back to the podium, she caught the first glimpse of the royal messenger. He was pomp and circumstance made living flesh; ample flesh. Clearly, he hadn’t been affected by the recent rationing of sugar and flour. As he spoke she listened intently, the corners of her pink lips turning upwards ever so slightly. It wasn’t so much as a smile, but more so her way of visually contemplating the potential task at hand. Was she up to it? She wasn’t a peasant per say, but she was by no means royal. Her father had been a blacksmith, so while he made enough that they didn’t go hungry (usually), he was never able to wrap his daughter in silk and satin. She mulled over the messengers words the entire way home, forcing herself to apologize for carelessness more than once. Fortunately, most people weren’t overly perturbed by her lack of attention as they themselves were consumed with the…task at hand.
Opening the heavy wooden door she stepped inside, and only when the shadows washed over her face she did allow herself to exhale and close her eyes. Married, to the prince. How often had she caught glimpses of him, either riding in his gilded carriage or perched atop his slick black stallion? Even the horse would pale in comparison to his riders looks. She liked to imagine that he would be a kind king. With his dark hair that flopped carelessly beneath his crown, and his bright blue eyes that seemed to mimic a summer sky. But she was only Topsail, a blacksmiths daughter wrapped in plain cotton. She was no heir to any type of throne nor did she boost a bloodline blue and royal. However, her parents had always told her she was more than a pretty face. A face that had stopped more than one peasant boy on the streets. She was strong willed and stubborn, possessing an iron-clad will that rivaled the strength of the castle gates. This was her home, and perhaps there was some chance of her, a blacksmiths daughter, making a real change. With those thoughts in her mind, she quickly washed her face and once more glanced in the mirror. Tomorrow, at this time, she would go to the town hall and submit her application. The worst that could happen is that she would be denied. The absolute best thing to happen would be that she was selected, and would be given a chance to make a real change…not to mention a chance to see if the princes arms were just as strong as they looked.
She arrived to find the town hall busy, but not completely overwhelmed. Smiling politely, she sidestepped a gaggle of giggling girls. No doubt their brains were filled with little more than air and bits of pillow fluff, but the opportunity to be married to the prince was more than they could resist. They didn’t care about the state of the kingdom; they only cared for a taste of the prince’s luscious lips. Topsail, on the other hand, cared very much about her kingdom. It was her home and had always been her home; she owed it only her best. What exactly her best was she wasn’t sure, but no doubt she would dig deep and find out. Taking a deep breath she stepped into the town hall, her modest heels scratching on the rough floor. Several royal officials stood behind the counter handing out applications as they were requested. “Please sirs, I’d like an application.” she said, offering them only her best smile. A boy from her youth had often told her she had a way of making her eyes sparkle and right now, she turned that charm on to the fullest extent. The official nearest her smiled back, a rosy blush rising up from his stiff collar to flush his neck and cheeks above. “Thank you. And a pen, if you please..” And with that her hand began to sweep over the parchment, her strokes more excited the farther she went.
A week passed, and then two. Topsail had mostly given up hope. She was surprised to find herself as upset as she was; what had started off as just a wild hair and completely consumed her. Just the other day she had practiced her curtsey, silly though it may be to do so. Surely they had chosen someone more worthy, be it by beauty or brains. Lost in thoughts she almost missed the knock at the door. It was likely a neighbor looking to borrow something, or perhaps one of the peasant boys who had been eyeing her so strongly. She quickly brushed the tears and disappointment from her face and then swung open the wooden door. There before her stood the same royal messenger, fat and smug in his satin wrapper. “I am here to announce that you, Topsail, have been chosen to visit the palace…” but his words were lost. It was hard to hear much past the smile that had taken over every last corner of her pretty face.
It did not take her long to ready herself and soon she was boarding a simple but fine carriage. The horses pulling it were a handsome pair of chestnuts, and even without the restriction of the check rein they held their heads high. She had barely gotten seated on the plush velveteen seats when the driver shouted to his team, slapping the reins across their glossy hides. They plunged forward into the bridle and Topsail was thrown back into the comfort of the seat. Nothing could dampen her spirits today, not even getting jostled around by the over-enthusiastic whip and his team. As the wheels clattered over the cobblestones she peeled back the curtain to glance out the window. Many a curious face was peering at the carriage, and Topsail knew more than one of those faces would probably be green with envy. Even if she wasn’t chosen, she would still be given the opportunity to visit the castle! Most people here would only ever see it framed in heavy iron bars. As she settled back into the seat the carriage ride became smoother, and she knew without a doubt they were nearing the palace. They passed through the wrought iron gates as she threw back the curtain completely, reveling in the overall magnificence of the place. Somewhat unwillingly the chestnut team came to a halt, though they continued to roll the bit between their teeth. In the blink of an eye the driver was at the door, swinging it open and bowing low. Topsail smiled and blushed, offering the man in the top hat a quiet “thank you”. Looking up at the castle she suddenly felt small and very insignificant. It seemed as if the smooth stone stretched to the sky, with the very top turrets tickling the bottoms of the clouds. Lost in her reverie she almost didn’t notice the handsome servant that skipped down the stairs towards her. He also bowed, taking her hand between his as he did so. “My darling, you are the last to arrive. Please, follow me into the castle. Everyone is most anxious to meet you.” he said, his voice oozing a certain charm that Topsail couldn’t help but admire. Blushing again she followed the man up the steps, barely able to contain a gasp as he threw open the heavy oak doors. With a start, she realized the hardware was made of gilded gold. As they stepped over the threshold and into the forayer, she did allow herself to gasp. She was quite certain her eyes had never feasted on such beauty. Even the sunset paled in comparison.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Mostly a lot of pomp and circumstance, leaving Topsail to feel wildly out of place but excited all the same. The other ladies were clearly used to such fineries and didn’t fuss much, but Topsail found herself enthralled by it all. From the golden door handles, the oriental rugs that spoke of far-off foreign lands, to the fine china fit for a palace in the Dynasty itself. It was hard not to feel somewhat overwhelmed. Throughout dinner she made small talk with the other girls though she was careful not to reveal too much of herself or her thoughts on the current political issues. Girls were known to be chatty creatures, and it wouldn’t do for any of her thoughts and feelings to reach the wrong set of ears. Finally, the same handsome servant from before stepped into the dining room. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you all to your quarters. I trust you’ll find them more than suitable.” As another servant pulled her chair back for her, Topsail rose to follow the crowd and the man. They walked for what seemed like miles, depositing the other girls here and there. Finally, she was the only one left. “And here is your room.” said the man, bowing as he swung open the door. “Thank you. I’m sure its lovely.” Topsail said, offering him a genuine smile. He reciprocated the smile before bowing himself out, closing the door behind him. With a start she realized the room was round and she knew she must have been stationed in one of the turrets. Heavy silk curtains hung all around the room, while the kingdoms colors (navy blue and old gold) were draped from the ceiling. A large four-poster bed stood to one side, and its hangings mimicked those from the ceiling. Above the bed and painted on the stone was the castle crest; a lion rearing, its fierce mouth drawn open in a silent roar. A small table bearing a vase of fresh cut lilac sat beside the bed, and Topsail breathed deep of the gorgeous scent. Curiosity eventually overcame her, and she peered into the oaken wardrobe, surprised but grateful to find a night gown there. Suddenly she felt exhausted. Sighing she shed her day clothes, slipping into the nightgown. It fit her like a second skin, the soft material clinging to her curves. Throwing back the duvet she noticed with a smile that a warming pan had been placed at the foot of the bed. Yawning widely she climbed in, sinking into the fine mattress like a stone in the sea. Pulling the covers up to her chin she drifted off, and it was only from exhaustion that she forgot to feel excited.
topsail