Awake - Book One of the Spinner's Curse

Chapter One: Fairytales

  

                           Chapter One:

Fairytales

　

　

　

　

            The day began brightly, the sun waking me long before my handmaiden, Addalaide, could. I leapt from my bed eagerly, running to the window to let in the breeze coming from the sea. On the sill sat a bluebird, its feathers puffed up against the wind, making him appear fat. When I opened the window, he let out a startled chirp and flew off. I laughed. Today would be wonderful.

           When Addalaide came in, laden with my breakfast, she wasn't surprised to see me already awake. "Good morning, Princess!" she exclaimed cheerily, setting my breakfast on a table by the hearth.

            "Addy, I told you, call me, Rory! I hate that princess stuff! You haven't called me Princess since I was small!" I laughed, remembering the days when we would play pretend; always the roles would be reversed, with Addy the princess and me the lowly maid.

             "Ah, but my Lady, you are small no longer. Today your father shall announce you to the world as his heir, and you shall learn the name of your betrothed! Almost a full-grown woman! Though not as much as your mother would like," she added in a conspiratorial tone I knew well. We both giggled. "Now eat!" she ordered. "Your mother will be here shortly with your dress. I managed to catch a glimpse of it last night and it's magnificent! Fit for a queen!" Addy always had a weakness for fine gowns, while I secretly preferred breeches. Often I would damage a dress I knew Addy liked just to have an excuse to give it to her.

             "Well," I said, trying to use my most princess-y tone, "we must not disappoint!" We both burst into delicious laughter again. Soon we sat before the fire, Addy telling me all the gossip of the kitchens while I ate my meal of cinnamon rolls and milk. When I finished, Addy cleaned up and I went back to the window, watching as servants erected a pavilion for the party that afternoon. My bedroom door burst open and my mother swept into the room with grand flourish, three maids following in her wake.

 My mother looked resplendent in a gown of rich emerald that matched her eyes perfectly. Her golden hair was swept up into an elegant twist, setting off her features nicely. Gold trim lined her gown, accentuating her tiny waist. My mother was exactly what you would expect in a queen: she was regal, with kind eyes and a sympathetic smile. I envied her. I was tall, like my father, and my elbows and knees stuck out awkwardly. I possessed none of the grace she did. In fact, the only way I resembled my mother was the color of our hair, although mine tended to curl far more than hers did.

              She embraced me, her hands unconsciously smoothing my frizzy curls. "Are you ready?" she whispered into my ear. I nodded, knowing that if I spoke she would hear the hesitance in my voice. She beamed at me. "I am so proud of you." I was shocked to see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. Before I could comment on them, she turned from me, her attention going to the attendants she brought with her. "Wash the princess with rose petal oil today. Brush her hair and . . . put it up. I want her to look like a queen today." The maids nodded, demure smiles softening their faces. I smiled at my mother. She embraced me again. "Now I have to go and wake your siblings," she announced with a wink, "and you know what a chore that will be."

             I had four siblings. A sister, Rosamund, who was exactly ten months younger than I; twin brothers, Henry and William, who were a year younger than Rosa; and Claudette, whose eighth birthday would be celebrated a month after my mine. Waking them had been a long-standing joke among my family. I was the only one who shared my parents' love of early mornings. When my mother left, the maids descended upon me, quickly stripping me and setting me into the bath wheeled in while my mother and I talked. I sank down into the warm water, leaving only my nose and mouth above the surface. Rose petals floated gently by.