Denial of the Whisper

Chapter Twelve.

Chapter Twelve.

Two more days passed, and I didn't even leave my room anymore.

I've pretty much made myself to the prisoner they had told me I wasn't.

But somehow, I felt better this way.

I couldn't handle their kindness, because I told myself that it wasn't the truth. None of it was. In my head, simply none of it made sense. They had robbed me of my freedom, even if they had no other choice, if I dared to believe what Dylana had said. But they did nothing so bad, that I could hate them. And that was my problem. Despite all... they still treated me better than anyone I have ever met.

Yes, they told me nothing. But physically... I was well. None of them had called me one of those awful names I had gotten used to, no, they actually had always treated me as if I was an equal.

Which I wasn't.

I didn't know if anyone else in my situation would have simply enjoyed and welcomed the change. Because basically, this was the best life I ever had.

I had food.

I had something to eat.

Every day.

I even had someone I could talk with who didn't look at me as if I was an abortion.

But I wasn't free.

And if anything... my mother had not given me much words before she had left me. But she had told me to keep my freedom.

It was the only thing she had asked of me, and I had terribly failed in keeping it.

So, yes, I felt bad. And maybe, I just needed to feel bad, to not forget what I had lost.

When a knock at the door was heard, I didn't say something, because Nissy, the servant, always just got into my room and put some food on the table.

Dylana had been furious at first, when Nissy had told her that I didn't want to leave my room anymore. She came to me, angry, but had soon calmed down. After telling me, that my door would always remain open, no matter what I thought of it, she had stayed for a while, but then, my silence seemed to have told her to leave me alone.

"I need to clean the room. Do you mind going outside a bit?", Nissy asked me and ripped me out of my thoughts.

Irritated, I looked at her. "Clean the room?"

"Yes, I usually do it when you are dining or outside in the courtyard, but for the last days...", she went quiet.

"I can clean the room on my own, just leave something here.", I said, but she shook her head, vehemently.
"Please. Dylana would get quite angry if I don't to my work."

Blinking, I watched her. Surely Dylana would't...? But again, I didn't know her good enough. If anything at all.

But Nissy's pleading eyes made me agree.

"Okay. Is an hour enough?", I asked and grabbed a small book, a quill and some ink which I had found in my room the day before.

Once I sat in the green grass underneath the big tree in the courtyard, I flicked through the pages and reread what I had written down.

Nissy – servant at Dylana's house.

Srandi – healer from the castle, I asked her about mother. She didn't know her. But she's old... if Nyshard may have met my mother (a lie?), where did he meet her? Not here, at the castle?