Queen of Shattered Dreams

3 - Dreams

Photo by Eva Bronzini from pexels

Alfrid's thirteen-year-old sister, Hannah, watches as I roll out dough on the kitchen counter in her family's home. I've come here to make dream dumplings: first because Mother would be appalled to find me cooking and secondly, she'd be apoplectic if she knew I was doing magic.

There's something calming about the dough's malleability. Doing something with my hands and talent is far more soothing than anxiously waiting for whatever comes next in life. It's been three months since my meeting with King Feodor, my sixteenth birthday has come and gone and Mother is growing antsy for my invitation to court to be official. If she doesn't receive one soon, I'm afraid she'll continue her search for a rich, old husband.

"When do you do the magic?" Hannah asks, impatient as she watches me.

I laugh. "Is this not magical for you?" I finish rolling the dough and reach into my basket for the spices to make my grandmother's recipe. My father's mother started teaching me magic when I was eight-years-old. She must have sensed her time was short. She died only five years later. The first time we made these dumplings, there'd been a knock at the door, an unexpected visitor. Grandma hid the lesser-known herbs and focused too hard on kneading the dough. My heart raced and my entire body stiffened as I waited for the royal guard to storm into the kitchen and arrest us both. But it had been a delivery for the kitchen and had gone to the wrong door. Soon the herbs were brought back and my lesson continued.

"Magic is not something to lose your head over," she'd said to me. "You must be careful never to reveal what you can do, lest you reveal it to the wrong person."

Of course, that had never meant Alfrid. He's the only person besides grandma that I've ever trusted, and of course, Hannah by association.

I crush dried passion flower and sprinkle it over the dough. "Dreams give to me, a vision of what's to be."

"Was that it?" Hannah's shoulders droop.

"Shh." I wave my hands over the dough, making things more dramatic for my audience's sake. She crouches down, silently apologetic. I suppress a smile. It isn't quite the same as that day when I conjured my future in the river. The dumplings were Hannah's request. Like most young girls whose futures are not based solely on fortune, Hannah is curious and eager to see hers. In a way, I envy her. Her life will be hard. It's doubtful she'll marry well in the way of money, but she has a chance to marry for love—or if nothing else, to marry someone her own age.

Of course, I will eat one myself. Not so much because I want to see what the future holds, but these dumplings are delicious and I could use a good night's sleep. The passion flower will see to that. I add some salt with a flick of my wrist and make a noise with my mouth that doesn't resemble any real words but it seems to satisfy Hannah that she's watching magic take place. That part was done as soon as I'd spoken the words.

"Hand me the peppers will you?" I gesture toward the small wooden bowl with sliced green peppers. I mix them with the meat I snuck from my own kitchen and fill the dumplings. Hannah watches closely before grabbing one to pinch shut the same way I had.

"Thanks for doing this," she says, pinching then unfolding the dough and trying again.

"Like this." I help her. "It's no problem, I enjoy it." I think I would have liked a younger sister, but more so just this little sister. I close off another dumpling and set it on the plate. "How's Alfrid doing with Mr. Kuznik?"

Once we turned sixteen, Alfrid began his apprenticeship with Mr. Kuznik, a blacksmith and a friend of the family. Alfrid's lucky. There are stories of bad apprenticeships, cruel masters, bad living conditions. Some men see having an apprentice as having free labor, and those laborers should be grateful for the chance to serve them. Mr. Kuznik has been kind and he's very knowledgeable. Alfrid has deep respect for him. Still, it means we don't see each other as often. It's quite possibly the third reason I've chosen to make the dumplings here, for the chance to see him when he arrives home.