All Of Us - Part 1: Summer

Prologue

She needed to leave now. Only if she remained quiet would she be safe.

She slid sideways, edging away from the center of the bed until her legs dangled out in the open. She closed her eyes and recalled that as a young child, she would lie awake. Her eyes stretched wide, trying to distinguish light from shadow, her ankles would remain safely tucked in the blankets, far from the reach of any monster. She was dead certain - if she ever happened to place the tiniest toe outside of the sanctuary the covers promised, she would get devoured. It took her a while to understand that a bed is far from a safe haven, and that the real monsters are out in the open. Needless to say, she wasn't afraid of the dark anymore.

She was terrified of darkness.

Pushing herself forwards, the tip of her foot striked the floor. The wood was frigid, and shivers began to crawl up her leg, but she did not have the time to be cold. She got out of the bed - quietly - and eased over to the chair in the corner of the room. Moving effortlessly, the moonlight brushed her bare skin as she passed in front of the window. She gazed out, out into the night time, and the moon was there. Pale and naked. She wondered what it thought of her.

She reached out to grab both the soft nightgown and the hard, indistinguishable object strewn on the divan. Soundlessly, she slipped them on. Silk rubbed her skin as she slid to the door. Without a backwards glance towards the figure on the large iron bed behind her, she walked into the corridor. Deep breath.

The plush carpet muffled her footsteps and she was able to reach the room at the end of the hall without alerting anyone. She would never put such a carpet in her castle. It is in essence a friendly invitation for burglary, mischief, and other miscellaneous acts of going behind the lord of the household's back.

She softly knocked on the ancient oak door. One two, three four. The handle bopped down and back up and she was in. Deep sigh. Safe. Well, about as safe as she could be. She stepped over the doorstep and into the room. The walls were unbecomingly decorated with a white and red striped wallpaper. Were they mocking her ? She glanced at the woman by the door. Knowing Dame Camelia, she probably chose this room to do such a thing. Their gazes locked as the girl helplessly stared into the Dame's cruel blue eyes. A tight chignon held back the lady's amber hair, her thin pink lips forming a set of parallel lines.

Wordlessly, Dame Camelia gestured for her to stand in the middle of the chamber. She complied. The Dame came closer, and with a steady, practiced and indifferent gesture, she undressed her. The nightgown fell into a heap around her ankles as the Dame began to inspect her.

"Hmmm. No external injuries, it appears."

The girl stayed silent and avoided eye contact. She knew the Dame's hard face well enough.

"Anything I should now ?" the Dame asked. Simultaneously she lifted the young lady's right arm and probed her side flank.

"No." Her voice was rusty and the reply came out hoarse. The first word she had pronounced that day.

Satisfied, the Dame let go of her forearm and turned her back on the girl.

"There is a dress on the armchair over there. Put it on. Be quick."

She did as the Dame said, and soon enough she was ready, all dressed in white. She loathed that dress.

She drifted towards the middle of the room and Dame Camelia turned. As she rearranged the dress and fiddled with her hair, an outsider could have mistaken them for mother and daughter. It made her sick.

"Oh... Princess, your crown is crooked."

She touched it self-consciously and re-adjusted it. Silent, the Dame nodded and left the bedroom, fully expecting her to follow. She did.

They slid down the flight of stairs till the ground floor and stepped outside. Gam was silently waiting for them, leaning against a small carriage. His tired face appeared even more worn than usual. His wrinkles pushed his features downwards, and keeping his eyes open seemed to be a true challenge for him. If Dame Camelia was a freezing, heartless winter, he was simply... nothing. Bleak indifference. He opened the door for her, and she stepped in. Before closing the carriage door, he explained in a deep rumble: "We are too far from the Royal Castle to take you in the night. We will have to stop by the Summer Palace." She nodded, and, satisfied, he shut the door. She could still hear him and Dame Camelia moving about, taking their usual place in the front of the carriage. A whip crackled, and the horses began to move. It was going to be a long ride, so she leaned back in the seat and gazed at the sky. A cloud had covered the moon, so now all that could be seen was gray. She surprised herself with a sudden urge to yawn. Stifling her need, she drew the window curtains and closed her eyes, softly rocked by the steady pounding of the hooves outside.                                                                                               Under her breath, she prayed for sleep. Her only escape.