Eight Reasons to Rebel

Chapter 4- The Secret of Night

CHAPTER FOUR

Aster

The moon is halved, and it smiles kindly over the glistening lake, admiring its reflection in the still water. It watches over the lilacs and daisies as they sparkle like hidden gems dripped in early lunar light. I focus my gaze back to the parchment clasped in my fingers and dip my feather quill into the ink pot beside me. A shadow has cast itself over the paper and I struggle to see the inked words already written on the page. The orb of light I had created only a half hour ago has become distracted and has drifted closer to the lakes edge, a perfect reflection of my wondering mind. I drop the quill in the pot and focus my hands, lifting and moving them in practised motions. The ball, paled and dim from its adventure, suddenly glows bright enough that a few closed tulips tilt their heads in its direction. I move it closer to the fallen branch in which I'm sat, and it chases the darkness away, lighting the few lines of poetry on the page. I retrieve my pen and continue, my mind suddenly stolen into the depths of my imagination. The poem is not about me or even of my life. It is of a raven. A creature that has so often captured my attention and so often intoxicated my thoughts. They are not common here in Eos, in fact many of the folk deem even the sight of them bad luck. But for me there are as beautiful as any creature born from the land. Black beady eyes, black soft feathers, black painted wings soaring against pale blue skies. They are intelligent, I see the wisdom in their ways, perching on one's windowsill watching and waiting in the hopes for something better than what they have, never deterred by the amount of shooing and stone throwing that certainly comes their way. They are strong, persistent, rebellious.

I am the night in thine eyes
Wings dripped in darkness
Feathers of the dying skies
I am but the stars in my mind
Vengeful yet hopeful still
To be loved like the moon is kind

I sense the first light before it even has a chance to hit the meadow. A fox does too and creeps out of his den to admire the soon to be glistening lake. I collect my things and stretch out my legs, slightly stiff from the hours of sitting. The early spring is colder than it usually is, and a thin layer of frost has settled, making my footfall heavier than id like. It disrupts the beauty of the glade and also frightens the little fox. I watch him scurry off his eyes untrusting, before the hunting, I wonder if there was a time, he would have sat beside me.

It is too early for anyone to be awake, and it is still too dark. The light folk dislike the dark, in fact sometimes I think they despise it. They believe the night to be the most impure and wicked hours of the day. A time to be avoided at all costs to ward off misfortune. The entire kingdom will only rise at first light, and they will make sure to be in bed before the sun sets. This fits perfectly for me; it allows enough hours to sneak away from the palace and enough time to explore and write as much as I please without the worry of ever being seen. I actually prefer the villages quiet, much more to when they are bursting with colours, people, lights and food, it's too chaotic and overwhelming at the best of times. The night is much simpler and beautiful in a way that is hard to understand, it feels like a precious secret that can only be shared with me.
In the centre of the village of fluorescence lies the grand palace of Edrea, encircled by golden gates and perfectly cut hedges. The palace is beautiful, even more so now in the face of dawn. The white walls reflect the colours of the sky, painting it in an array of glowing orange and faded purples. It's all turrets and towers, like something from a fairy book. Golden shutters on every window, rounded glass panes that look into lavish sitting rooms. The gardens are perhaps even more breathtaking, the finest collection of flowers in every colour, placed all around the palace in order of the rainbow. There is a perfect fade between every shade, and nothing is out of place. I enter through a side gate that is mostly reserved for the servants; it leads to a winding path though the bluish purple garden and up to the wooden doors into the kitchens. I creep in as silently as I can, hating how the door creaks on its hinges as I try to close it. Just as I believe I've got away with my adventure, a voice startles me from behind, "Miss Aster, where may you say have you been at this hour?" The voice is clipped and stern, yet it is not unkind, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I recognise it. I turn to find Mrs Applewood, a plump short woman, with incredibly rosy cheeks, her arms are crossed, and she has a displeased look on her face.
"I apologise, I didn't believe any of the staff to be up yet," I say, placing my most innocent sweet smile on my face, she has caught me once before and it had seemed to do the trick then. However, she is not so easily manipulated this time.
"You know quite well that is not an answer."
I sigh and go to pick up an apple from the large wooden fruit bowl on the counter, "I only went for a walk to clear my head before breakfast, you know I love to see the sunrise." Mrs Applewood doesn't seem overly convinced and raises one of her eyebrows with a pointed look at the leather bag on my shoulder. I take a bite of the apple to think of a reasonable explanation. I never liked lying, in fact I've always been taught that is the most sinful of things to do but I've learnt there are ways to deceive with only the truth. Once I swallow, I continue my version of the evening, "I needed time to write some things down, my father always reminds me that I should never neglect my studies, this apple is quite lovely is it from the red orchard?" I am doing my best to steer the conversation in a more favourable light, and it seems to be working as Mrs Applewood only sighs, shaking her head. She has uncrossed her arms and started churning batter in one of the many bowls placed around the kitchen.
"You've always been an adventurous one princess, even when you were a youngin, very studious too" she laughs fondly.
"And no miss, those apples are actually from my very own trees back at my house,"
"Are they really? They are quite glorious" I say, meaning every word. Mrs Applewood only laughs further, "I suspect you wouldn't want your father to hear of your extrusions in the dead of night, especially not with you leaving for the school in a few hours." She raises her eyebrows again in a mock warning.
I had hoped that she would drop the subject, but she is right, my father would be far less understanding on the matter.
"No, I don't think it's necessary to worry him about my being tired, I will get enough rest in the carriage," I try to keep my voice neutral as if it wouldn't really matter either way, although I'm not sure it's to any effect. I feel the weight of the bag for the first time since my walk over and I am reminded by the letter inside. The letter that was sent to inform me of my position in the school of Edrea, I feel nervous even to think of it. Of course, I am excited to see some of the other heirs again, it's been almost a year since the last ball that held all the royal families together. I most especially look forward to seeing Prince Sorra, the Idris heir, he would be my closest ally at the school as air and light relations have always been very positive.
"Are you prepared dear? What with those trials and all that responsibility when you come back?"
I always forget how well she knows me, far better than my real mother and my stepmother combined. She's watching me with an empathetic expression, open and kind, she has paused her churning to fully focus on me and I feel an overwhelming pang of affection wash over me.
"Im nervous," I say truthfully, "Im going to miss you more than ever while I'm away." To my surprise I feel a tear crawl down my cheek, I wipe it quickly with the back of my hand. I should be excited, thrilled even, I'm going to be returning a Queen for goodness' sake. That particular notion, however, doesn't bring me as much joy as I hoped, it's basically a death sentence to the freedom I worked so hard to find.
Mrs Applewood brush's her hands on a stray tea towel and wraps her warm arms around my thin frame. It's as if I've been engulfed by a cozy patisserie, the smell of fresh dough mixed with crushed fruits and herbs.
"Do not worry yourself my love, you re the brightest and kindest girl in the kingdom, and you will make a fine Queen when you return, and as for me I will hopefully get my promotion."
I laugh, tears streaming down my face. I wrap my arms tightly around her and try to memorise this moment so I can remember it forever.
"Now go back up to your rooms and ready yourself, your father will be waiting."
I nod, "I hope you like the sound of head baker" I say with a grin. I get up and collect my things, turning toward the door.
"I like that very much," she calls after me. I smile all the way up to my room and jump on the bed as soon as I see it, not caring about the filthy look I get from Spice, my ginger tabby. Sprawled out on the cushioned mattress I finally let the exhaustion creep in.