BP001-P08 - Lemon Juice 2

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The coachman had the box in his hand and felt compelled to load the luggage first. Meanwhile, her father continued to talk at the man as if he wanted to sell him something. Meia took the opportunity to move away from the action and instead of waiting, admired the horses up close.

Both horses were a strong black with a sheen in their coats, then they had a flowing mane and a thick tail. When Meia approached them, one of them lowered its head, but apart from that they did not react to her. It was really amazing how big they were. If she stood on a milking bucket and then jumped up, only then would she be able to look over their backs, they were that tall. They were also strong. You could see the muscles clearly shimmering through the fur. A normal horse would look like a pony against them. They were almost disproportionate for the disproportionate carriage, or at least only one could have been used.

Meia wanted to pet one on the head and cautiously reached her hand up. She only dared to do so because the horse had behaved calmly so far.

But it reacted differently than she had expected. Suddenly it shook its head with all its might.

Meia stumbled back, watching the sweep of its mane break the sunlight into glistening fragments. The mane had a real cut to it. ~The horse has better hair than me.~ Meia joked mentally, but the shock had almost made her wet her dress. She had backed away a full three steps to escape the horse's possible wrath. The caution was certainly understandable. As muscle-bound as the horse seemed, it could throw her from here into the valley with its mouth, and even now it was panting furiously. Unfortunately, that about the hair was true. The housemaid had gone to so much trouble only for Meia to be outdone by horses at the front door.

While Meia was standing in front of the angry horse, not knowing what to do, the coachman came running up.

"I apologise very much. I hope you weren't too frightened."

Meia shook her head in the negative. The coachman realized that nothing had happened to her and went on to the horse. The horse still seemed upset. The coachman slowly stretched out his hand and put it on the horse's neck, slowly calming it down again. His touch had the opposite effect to Meia's.

"I'm sorry about that. Whenever a stranger touches him, he reacts like that. Unfortunately, they were treated badly, by the privous owner. But the snorting doesn't mean he wants to threaten you. He just does that to let me know he survived the encounter."

"I see." Meia mumbled back quietly.

With the help of the coachman, Meia was able to pet the horse after all, albeit somewhat cautiously. The coachman then led Meia back.

Meia said goodbye to her father with a curtsey and to the lady of the house with a single word, who in return wished her good luck.

When it was clear that no one was going to say anything further, the coachman approached Meia again.

"Do you have any wish before we leave?"

"I-I don't need anything."

The coachman opened the door for Meia and offered his hand to help her get in. The carriage had a long footboard under the doors. Meia would manage it without help. The footboard was wide. The door was wide. The steps were small. Anyone with two legs could manage it on their own. Off course, Meia took the coachman's hand anyway.

"If anything comes to mind during the journey, please ring the bell."

As Meia took the steps, her questioning gaze went inside the carriage. Warm sunlight fell through the open door onto a gold-stitched, pure white leather bench. Glittering silk curtains hung bundled in the corners of the windows. In the centre was a table of white-coloured wood, where the grain stood out darkly in an impressive way. Even a lamp hung from the ceiling. At least, Meia believed it was one. Visually, it was more of a porcelain bowl. From it hung the shoots of a dainty hanging plant with tiny white flowers in clusters. Meia had no clue what kind of plant it was, but that meant nothing. Meia knew almost all plants only by sight and this one was not from around here. In summary, the interior was characterised by a discreet decadence. Like being very very rich, but not wanting to push it on people too much. There was little there, but what was there was as sumptuous as it could be. In the middle of the table, Meia also found the hand bell made of gold that the coachman meant.

Meia slipped through to the other side, so that she would be hit by the sun as she rode. She put her hat on the bench beside her.

When Meia was seated, the coachman closed the door, then he left and a moment later they drove off.

The carriage turned and would follow the main road back.

Meia stared out the window at the landscape. Her hands were in her lap, gripping each other tightly. She saw housemaid waving goodbye to her and her father waiting for her to leave so he could go back inside. Fortunately for him, it was not long before the house disappeared from her view.

Down in the valley, the carriage first passed the crossroads to the old mines. The mines had once been very valuable, but today the road to them was barely visible through the tall grass. At the side of the road, a broken carriage wheel stood against a rock. It had already been there when there was still snow and no one moved it away. Probably someone had thought he could drive that way and it had broken on the stones under the snow. A little further down the road, the village with its small half-timbered houses began. Some were abandoned. Hardly anyone was outside. Only a few hundred people lived in Wiestahl. Although it was a very remote place, it had not always been like this. The reason for the emigration at that time was the exhaustion of the mines. The deposits of the mountains vanished and with them the inhabitants of Wiestahl and with them the power and wealth of the Arvis family.

A cloud passed by the sun and revealed its image in the glass. Meia saw a young girl with tired eyes and a forced smile. Her focus changed when she noticed a shattered shop window behind the girl. It was just an abandoned shop, like many others, she realised. Wistfully, she rested her head on her arm. The narrow central window was directly behind her hand.

"Why can't all carriages be like this?"

Especially now Meia noticed that she didn't really notice anything. The street here was uneven. The luxury paid off.

"Well, not everyone has horses like that. They probably don't even notice their excessive appendage."

Without Meia really being aware of it, she came closer to the end of the village. Fewer and fewer houses passed by the window. From under the edge of a roof a swallow flew away. ~Is this the last time...?~ The sun dazzled again. Meia closed her eyes, but it did not go black. A wavering play of light remained with her. Shortly after, she heard the horses step onto the small wooden bridge and the babbling of the stream below. The next time the rear wheels touched down on earth, they would have left Wiestahl.

Meia knew this road by heart. In the past two years, she had travelled this way almost every week. Her father was usually with her. Usually her two suitcases were in the back of the carriage. She had always taken them along for nothing. In the end, she rode back with him every time. No one wanted to keep her. No matter how much he praised her. No matter how cheaply he wanted to give her away. The outcome was always the same. Mr Monet did not have to write the letter. He did not have to invite her either. All he would had to do was write what he wanted. Meia was for free. Everyone knew that. But even that price was too high that anyone would want to pay it.

Nevertheless, he had invited her of his own accord.

Nevertheless, he had written such things.

What was the point? What reason could it have? Meia still could not find an answer. Would it turn out differently this time? Was there such a possibility?

She thought no more about it. With the warm rays of the sun on her skin, breathing the fragrant summer air, she fell asleep.

.../ End Part

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