Such Sweet Sorrow

Chapter Four: An Execution Corporation

Chapter Four: An Execution Corporation

After staring into the darkness where the carriages used to be for what felt like a long time, I realized my bags carrying my nightgowns were downstairs. I contemplated whether or not to just sleep in my dress, but feeling uncomfortable, I opened my door and peeked outside of it. No one was there as far as I could tell.

I crept down the hall feeling odd to even be in this house. Once downstairs I saw my bags near a breakfast table close to the front door. I searched through them and finally found my night clothes. I grabbed my bag and heaved it back upstairs.

I looked down the hall of door and felt uneasy. Which door was mine?

I felt horrified being in this situation. I could just open each door and alert me wandering around a house that didn't belong to me. I gulped and decided to just pick a door and if it wasn't mine I would just deal with it if it happened.

I picked the third door on the right and grabbed the door knob, slowly opening it and peaking inside. A small girl laid asleep, snoring softly and clutching a stuffed horse. I closed the door, feeling nervous. Time to try another one.

I tried the next door which was a closet, then the next which ended up being a toilet area. Irritated, I tried the next door and was glad to find the familiar room that had the window leading out onto the front yard.

I quickly changed for the first time without a servant's help and got into bed. It was soft and comfortable and I found myself moaning happily as I tucked myself in. This was what it was like to be normal.

Light shone in from the large window beside my bed. The smell of bacon and eggs caught my senses and I felt suddenly relaxed. I looked around, taking in my bedroom in the light and felt odd. There was no Hillary or Beth to wake me, or guards standing at attention outside my door. I was in a normal house, with a normal family. There was nothing to overreact about.

My bags were all downstairs which meant I had nothing to change into before going downstairs. I pulled on my dressing gown feeling completely inappropriate, and left my bedroom. Following the familiar path I had traveled last night, I walked downstairs into the kitchen were a plump, kind-looking woman was cooking over a wood burning stove.

At the breakfast table that was surrounded by my bags sat Mr. Wesley and a blond, curly haired child who I expected was the five year old daughter father was talking about and the little girl whose room I had accidently entered last night. The fact that they too were still in their sleepwear made me feel much more comfortable.

"Good morning Princess Flora." said, flipping a piece of bacon. She seemed a lot less nervous around me than Mr. Wesley had. "My name is Margret, this is my daughter Abigail. Breakfast will be ready shortly, just take a seat wherever you like. I'll have Anthony take your bags up after he's finished outside." I nodded and sat down next to Abigail who smiled at me.

"You're a princess." she said grinning, she was missing her two front teeth.

"Erm- yes." I said, smiling politely.

"I hear about you when we go to town." she told me, "How is it being a princess?" I felt uncomfortable, never been asked anything so direct.

"Abby leave Princess Flora alone." Mr. Wesley said, setting down his newspaper, "She doesn't want to be interrogated." Abigail nodded and looked down at her feet.

"It's okay." I said, feeling bad, "Being a princess is...well, erm- strict..." That was the first word that came to mind and it fit quite perfectly. That's how my life was. Strict.

"You don't get to go to royal balls and dance with handsome princes?" she asked, disappointed. I felt bad for crushing whatever dream she may have had.