Athenia's Choice (ON HOLD)

Athenia's Choice: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I was given a choice: I could either stay longer in the deeply claustrophobic cupboard, or go and speak to Father, both tasks I equally dreaded. There was worry stirring inside me of facing my Father, but I wanted to be defiant and brash and bold. Mama advised I see Father, and she led me to the spacious study, where he came storming in.

“Tell me everything that happened today, right from the moment you arose!” he demanded. I didn’t want to deceive him again so I told him everything, even my rudeness and flirting. I relished in the delight of explaining my naughtiness, it was just so, so bold!

Once I had finished, I realised goose pimples had clouded over me, as if a draught was sweeping in. I could see my own breath.

“Please Father, it is bitterly cold, so may I get a shawl or change my clothes?” I pleaded anxiously, hugging myself, admittedly ashamed of the amount of cleavage that was showing. I did not want to be labelled a whore.

“No, you will stay in that scandalous dress to remind yourself of how disgusting you are,” Father told me angrily, and we both knew I hated him as I stared into his slit-shaped eyes. As our eyes connected, something pulsed up inside me, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. I was unlocking the box of secrets from the past. I hung my head in shame. He was regretting it now.

Father started to pace the study. Mama was standing, pale as a lamb, by the door. She knew now, she knew I had heard them, and looked desperately worried. I don’t know how, but she knew. Mariettia was sent for and I gave her an honest apology, when I saw that her eyes were all puffy and, her body all tensed up, eyes darting everywhere.

“Why were you mean, Theeny?” she wondered, fiddling with the beads on her exquisite attire that I suddenly yearned for.

“Don’t call me that stupid nickname!” I snapped, reducing her to more tears. Mama ushered her out of the room.

“Follow me, for we are going to see Mr Fuller,” Father told me. I knew him briefly as the man who owned Bodiam Castle. We did not see much of him as we stayed to our own rooms. We went down many passageways until we came to Mr Fuller’s living quarters. Father hammered against the door.

“Good evening, Mr Reynalds,” he greeted. I peered nosily around the lavishly decorated room, taking in an enormous grand piano and a shelf containing curious contraptions.

“I wish to consult with you,” Father stated, and told me to wait outside. What was going to happen to me? Maybe I should’ve stayed in the cupboard…

Father had struck a deal with Mr Fuller: He could have back my bedroom in exchange for one of the deeply dreaded tower rooms. The open windows brought in icy air as Father steered me up and into the tower room. I looked around the bleak confined space.

“You are to stay here,” his words were firm and clear. I will not call him my Father. Not after all he’s done.

“Until when?” Came my miserable response.

“We have got you off our hands,” he snarled back, as he locked the door. Only then, did I feel able to cry and let out confused and bizzare yowls of mixed emotions - was I ready to take my rebellion to the next level?

*****

When I awoke, it was all black. It must have been the middle of the night. I hugged myself tightly, hearing the wind howl. My stomach ached. I had not eaten a proper meal since the day before the visit to Tunbridge Wells. I wanted to scream and shout but my voice was too hoarse. Maybe I should just change my name to Rapunzel, I thought, as I curled up on the stone floor.

*****

Daylight filtered through the windows. With it came a clattering of hooves. I pushed the window, but it wouldn’t budge. He had locked them as well. So much hatred was swelling inside of me, and I swung a punch which happened to be at one of the windows.

I gasped, as glass shattered everywhere, whilst my knuckle was a river of blood. Pain. What did it matter? Pain was not new to me.

The man on the horse dismounted and ran up to the sturdy castle wall. I goggled at him, probably looking like a mad person from a bawdy house.

“Are you alright miss?” he yelled up uncertainly, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Oh, ummm, sort of,” I replied.

“Do you happen to know if a Miss Athenia Reynalds resides here?” He wondered. He was asking for me?

“That would be me, sir, I am Athenia!” The man didn’t look surprised.

“I bring a message, from Charles Beaumount!” I almost fell out the window in astonishment. He did genuinely care about me, enough to ask a messenger boy to pass a note for me! My face lit up in excitement. Or was this a trick; how else would he know my surname?

“I implore you to read it out for me,” I begged, eyes wide and beseeching.

“Hep, hep,” the message-bearer cleared his throat:

“Dearest Athenia,

I hope this message reaches you, as your lady friend mentioned you lived in Bodiam Castle. My Mother reminds me that you left your dirty clothes at our house, and asks if you would like them back? You can keep the other dress; it looks very becoming on you. Could we possibly meet sometime? Send your word back with the messenger boy.

Yours affectionately, Charles”

My heart was pounding so much. I felt my cheeks flushing. I was a silly girl with scatterbrain ideas. I was already dreaming of kisses, marriage, and children: all the things a young girl longed for.

I suddenly had the faintest remembrance of a Great-Auntie Charlotte De La Blois, so perhaps Charles' mother Ida was a relative of hers? I told the man to tell Charles to ride out here himself, with a long strong rope as well as the largest possible basket he could find.

You see, I was rather quite excited at the chance to be a rebel again…