Through The Garden Path

The Beginning

It was a warm Sunday afternoon and Margaret had just finished pouring tea from the kettle. Aurelia smiled as the warm tea hit her lips. No matter the temperature outside, Aurelia loved to sip on tea. She liked to imagine it was from a fancy porcelain glass, with intricate pastel flowers painted along its curvacious surface. Growing up in Palais it was hard not to dream of  a fruitiful life.

Palais was an island village made up of shopkeepers and swordsmiths. It laid in the Kingdom of Eripio, a prosperous nation that had been around since the year of 1098, the same year their lord Divinato's was born. Palais was the export of processed iron, silver, and other precious metals. The inhabitants were kindhearted and hardworking, said to be decendants of the God of Mercy and Companionship. Men and women alike contributed in hardlabor and productions.

Margaret, she had no last name as many plebians did not, was a shopkeeper. Her husband Ambrose worked as swordsmith for the local armatta. The older woman had dirty blonde hair that she tied back in a bun and tired blue eyes that creased in the corners. Ambrose was a cheerful husky man with cropped auburn hair and a kind face. Aurelia lived with them for as long as she could remember. They were known as her Aunt Margaret and Uncle Ambrose.

How she ended up there, Aurelia had little idea. Aunt Margaret always said she appeared at their doorstep, a blessing in disguise. Uncle Ambrose claimed he found her in the dirt, planted like a seed. The little girl figured that his side of the story was mere fantasay, but it did make her laugh. No matter where she had come from, Aurelia was treated like their own daughter.

"I pray you have done your chores," Aunt Margaret sighed as she took a small sip of her tea from the lumpy metal cup.

Aurelia quickly nodded in response. "Of course, Mother," she answered.

"I told you it is best for you to not call me that," Aunt Margaret sighed.

Despite her affection for the young girl, Margaret was not her mother. It would be foolish and deceitful in her opinion to have the child believe anything other than that. Which is why she refrained from allowing Aurelia to call her mother.

This hurt Aurelia deeply, although she would never say it aloud. Growing up without a mother's love was an unbearable punishment for such a young and impressionable girl. Even though she loved her aunt deeply, the woman was no replacement for a mother.

"The sun will be setting soon, Aurelia. I believe it is best if you get inside and put on your nightgown," Aunt Margaret instructed as she watched Aurelia slurp the last bit of her tea, her tiny pinky outstretched.

Aurelia wanted to protest such an idea, but she knew better. Never once had she won an argument with her Aunt or Uncle. They knew all the weak spots to get her to obey their orders. "Yes ma'am," Aurelia replied sadly.

Aurelia's long blonde hair bounced as she trotted off inside their shack of a home. It was made with rotted wood and leaked whenever rainstorms arrived. Inside were no bedrooms, only a large common area with three cots that Aurelia shared with her Aunt and Uncle, as well as a small kitchen. Saddened that the day was already over, Aurelia hummed to herself to lift her dampened spirits as she changed into her nightgown.

She was grateful it was still warm outside. On cool nights it became so drafty in the house that Aurelia often had to sandwich herself between Margaret and Ambrose to try and keep warm. Still humming her tune she placed the cloth over her body and laid on her cot. Her tiny body already reached the end of the padded fabric.

As she did most nights Aurelia started to imagine a Prince, tall and kind. He would usually have dark hair, sometimes he was blonde if she did not concentrate hair enough. He would love to write her love letters and play music. She would put herself to bed thinking of him. How he would ask her to dance, the soft kiss he would place upon her cheek. Aurelia dreamed of him every night and prayed that he would be waiting for her in the morning.