Winter Wildflowers

Chapter 17

Day 154

"No.", Paulina scolded, swatting Ofelia then sighing, "Pronounce it with an 'o' sound.", she frustratedly corrected, muttering an insult under her breath.
Ofelia rolled her eyes, but followed her advice. She hated these mandatory lessons, but it seemed even reigning matriarchs had to endure their fair share of schooling.
Though language was her most dreaded subject, the hope of learning better things in the future helped Ofelia persevere. Paulina had carelessly stated a few days prior that Ofelia would have to learn tactics to rule, and little did she know what eagerness settled in her chest because of it. It was due to the turnover of Ofelia's heart a few days earlier that she had a motivation, a quality that helped pass the time. She now sat quiet and observant. It seemed that Paulina hadn't suspected any change, she swatted and scolded as usual, but more aspects of the language seemed to make sense to Ofelia more often, it was easier to learn. Though she didn't want to admit it, the thought of Ofelia fluently speaking the rather odd sounding language of Veralta did appeal to her. Being able to speak to her peers would grant her the upper hand beyond the short-term ability to embarrass Knightley or spit an anger inspiring comment. She would no longer be dependent on anyone for information once she had learnt it.
Speaking of anger, her eye was still swollen, and she couldn't walk very well. Her leg was brutalised, a deep bruise having settled there a few days after her spit with His Majesty, the King. Of course, like most times he hurt Ofelia, Knightley hadn't come to see her. Ofelia let herself believe that it was due to his disinterest of her, of his disdain at best, and tried to consider other things.
There wasn't a plenty of times that she could practice her assigned language out of Paulina's lessons, her hand maidens didn't speak, and if on the rare occasion she did encounter another person, they bowed and cleared the scene. If not for being so desensitized to her own loneliness, Ofelia would have found this more troublesome, perhaps even bothersome, but at worst it was mildly frustrating. She was learning slow and couldn't move onto other, more interesting subjects because of it. It also didn't help that she was accompanied wherever she went. Really, her every move was supervised, there was to be no unnecessary conversations concerning the Queen. On the day she finally gathered enough strength to walk in the gardens she often looked upon, she quickly realised the maidens following her were not departing any time soon. She tried to enjoy her time outside regardless, but the birds were replaced by the crunching of boots, the fresh breeze replaced with their surrogate floral fragrances. The only moments she had to herself were when she was locked up in her chamber, left alone with her unavoidable thoughts concerning Knightley.

Ofelia sighed and dipped her pen back in the ink, scratching her head. Paulina had said that she was lucky that her mother tongue was similar in structure to the mainland's language, that they had a similar alphabet, but to Ofelia it all seemed like gibberish. She dropped her pen to the paper, frustratedly stretching back. Overall, it was a nightmarish experience, learning a language was frustrating and tiresome. But when she looked past her frustration, she noticed that she had begun to understand bits and pieces, despite her complaints otherwise. In fairness, learning a language was tricky for the average person, but Ofelia also spared herself excessive criticism as she had suffered tremendous blows to her head. Her body was overworked in healing what Ofelia already owned, let alone processing any new information. It was like evacuating and moving into the same house at the same time. She rubbed her forehead. She had a headache.
"Paulina, I am going to lay down.", She mumbled, leaving no room for argument.
Paulina huffed, scrutinizing her before rising to pack up Ofelia's things, "Then I will see you tomorrow.", she grumbled, clearly irritated at Ofelia's lack of endurance, "Please see me better equipped to learn."
Ofelia sat on her bed as Paulina left. She found it remarkable that Paulina could see Ofelia in such shape, and not only ignore and dismiss it, but still criticise her and expect more. Ofelia bitterly chuckled as she slipped under her covers. She would not miss this land. It was still early in the afternoon, but an overwhelming exhaustion had overcome Ofelia. She wondered if other Queens were treated as shocking as she was.
At home, if a woman was struck by her husband, her sworn protector, she would be avenged, and her husband would be punished. She had seen her father deal with such matters before, it was a humiliating scene for the offender.
Here, it seemed that things worked out in the opposite way. Ofelia was the one beaten and mistreated and yet she was shamed because of it, as if it was deserved, as if it were her fault. In no way had she asked for the life she now led, no way had she encouraged it, but to all who looked upon her, she was to be doubted and her husband, the King, was to be admired.
It made Ofelia's blood boil.