Angel

1-Cinder-Boy

Down on his hands and knees, Kylo scrubbed the stone floor. His knuckles were aching, his fingers were red-raw from alternating between the cold and the hot buckets of water. The cellar smelt of damp and rotten grapes. No matter how long the step-mother made him clean, he would never be able to get rid of the stench. Looking up towards the solitary window, Kylo dreamed of freedom.

His mind wandered to far-away places where the sky spread across the land in an eternal summer blue and he was permitted to sit outside in patches of wildflowers dreaming about whatever people dreamed about when they are free.

But all Kylo had ever known was the grey stone floors and the cold walls of his cellar room. He barely remembered his homeland, England, for he was brought to Germany at the age of six when his father married the stepmother. When his father died, Kylo was turned into the mother's slave. The wicked woman, jealous of Kylo's ethereal beauty and delicate nature, banished him. The young man slept in a corner, upon an ancient mattress, with no real bed of his own. Years were spent curled up like someone's unwanted doll. Midnight knew of Kylo's pain, of his tear-streaked eyes and constant hunger. A small wood stove burned nearby but never gave off enough heat to rid the humidity and sorrow from his clothes and out of his bones. He had moved the mattress so close to the fire that every morning he woke up covered in cinders.

Kylo was allowed in the rest of the grand house solely to cook and clean. He rose before dawn to heat water for the step-mother's and stepsisters' tea and make their breakfast. While he cooked, the delicious scents of eggs, fresh current buns and pork sausages wafted up to remind him all he would be getting were the leftovers that the mother and Drusilla and Elmira did not want. Then, once the three women were finished, they would allow Kylo to finish off their plates before he had to clear the table and wash the dishes.

His day was full of chores. If the large house was not immaculate, he would feel the sting of the step-mother's willow branch upon his bare back. Many of the scars he had acquired over his nineteen years remained. There were both internal and external ones that never ceased to sting.

Rising from the floor with a creak coming from his spine, he recalled the time the step-mother had bound him to the pillar of her bed and whipped him within an inch of his life when he refused to relieve her tension. He had been left semi-conscious and bleeding upon the bedroom floor until Elmira fetched him, cleaned him up swiftly, and helped him walk to the cellar. He was only sixteen.

The fear of hunger and physical abuse met with the fear of something more sinister that day. Though the mother had not tried anything since, he kept a watchful eye on her and trembled whenever they were alone in the same room. Though he had a growth spurt at the age of sixteen and was now just as tall as the Amazonian-built woman, he felt like a waif around her. The mother's venomous tongue and heavy hand somehow always found a way to hurt him.

Kylo dropped the scrubbing brush into one of the buckets and brought them outside to be emptied. The day carried the promise of rain. A faint breeze brought a chill to his skin when it touched its fingers upon his bare neck.

As he cleaned the brush and buckets, he heard the sound of horses nearing the front entrance. Embarrassed in his dirty rags, Kylo skittered to hide behind a tree and peeked at who the visitors were.

Three pure white stallions with plated manes and black plumes feathering from their heads stopped as the mother came out to greet them. Upon the horses were riders dressed in fine purple coats and white trousers. Black leather boots were slung in the stirrups. Each rider sat upon his horse with an air of confidence and arrogance. The men bore swords at their sides and a purple bow had been used to tie back their long hair. When Kylo looked closer, he realized these men must be aids to a prince or some lord.

"Good sirs, what do we owe this honor?" asked the mother joyfully as her two daughters rushed to her side. In unison, the woman curtsied to the head rider who was now standing before them.

Giving the women a half-bow, the rider spoke curtly, "The honorable Lord Vincent would like to invite the esteemed members of your household to his Masquerade Ball which will be held this weekend at his summer home. His Lordship would be honored if you, your..." the man's voice trailed off as he glanced upon the well-dressed yet homely looking young woman and chose his words carefully, "two precious daughters, along with any other member of your family, to grant him your presence."

When the mother took the ivory invitation, Kylo looked towards it in envy. The lord's man had said that the members of the household were all invited. A spark of hope warmed his heart. Perhaps he would be able to go to the ball, as well.

"Please thank his Lordship on our behalf. We will be there." The mother curtsied and the daughters followed suit. They remained humbly bowing until the three riders turned their horses around and galloped off the property.

"Can you believe it," squealed Elmira excitedly. "We've been invited to Lord Vincent's ball. I've seen him from afar once and he is a dream. His face is ivory fine and his hair is the darkest shade of black one has ever seen. Oh, mother, and his eyes! They are grey, nearly silver."

"I have heard that the Lord only stays in his summer home for a few weeks out of the whole year then returns to his castle," said Drusilla knowingly. "His summer home must be exquisite. I wonder what his castle is like."

"No one knows," the mother shrugged as she fanned herself with the envelope. "I have heard he prefers his solitude and that is why he chooses to spend the majority of his time in the castle."

Drusilla grabbed the invitation out of her mother's hand. "If I had a castle, I'd prefer it, as well."

"Mother," Elmira curiously looked at the matriarch as she hooked her arm through hers, "The lord lives in Italy, doesn't he?"

Kylo saw the mother nod and lead her children to the house. "Yes, in Venice. But he is a great lover of classical music and his favourite are German composers. Naturally, that is why he chose Germany as his place of residence for the summer so that he can go to as many concertos as he possibly can between having balls and trying to find a wife."

"A wife!" The daughters yelped.

"He must be in his late twenties, why else would be having a ball? Yes," said the mother knowingly, "I am certain this night will be about finding himself a Lady. We must find you two something stunning to wear. The three of us will show up in elegance, the lord will not be able to keep his eyes off of you."

"What about Kylo?" Elmira asked.

To that question, the mother burst out laughing.

"Mother, the whole household has been invited," Elmira gently reminded not wanting to go against the lord's wishes even though she did not want that soot-smelling boy along to ruin their night.

"My dear," the mother said as she choked back another guffaw, "his Lordship's aid said the esteemed members of the household are invited. That cinder-boy is about esteemed as a turnip. No, he is certainly not coming to the ball."

As the giggling daughters were led inside. Kylo pressed his cheek against the rough bark of the tree and felt his heart break.

word count: 1347