Black and white. Black and white. Black and white. Surrounding me, enclosing on me. Colour, a myth. This is not how I see the world, but how it is, my world. This world is steeped in shadow, darkness.
Caierah Blanc. Caierah Noir. Caierah White. Caierah Black. Simply Caierah.
I sit on a chair before my vanity, my mother braids my intricate curls to hide them beneath a cap. Shameful. Mortification. Shame.
I was a disgrace to my family. My hair was not the Anderson black. But a glistening brown, a myriad of curls to the pin straight locks of my family. Hidden, sheltered because of colour, a thing banned in Vlencia. Save the rose stalks green, the apples red and the sky blue. Everything. Is black and white. Good and bad. Dark and light. No in between and that is where my shame began.
"Come, child!" Mother tsked, hitting me over the back of the head. "The King has requested all women, married and unmarried. Young or old, to attended this gala. You're lucky that the guards will check the houses later for maidens or you'd be locked in the cellar for disobeying me."
"Yes, Mother. I understand, Mother." I say blandly, a practiced routine.
"Is that cheek, Young lady? I have all mind to hit you and be done with it. But the King may see and we will be cast over the wall. Plus, as much a disgrace as you are, such a pretty face," Mother places a hand on my cheek, almost lovingly, before drawing it away and slapping me. "Go, child. We mustn't be late."
The butler ushers us outside to the motorcar, giving me a pitying look. I don't need his pity, I need his help. My eyes are drawn from the butler as I am seated in the motorcar. A large black manor sits in forested country side, of hues of black and white. The grass is the only thing with colour. Well kept and framed by black and white roses. It has been many an Autumn since I'd been outside.
The sky, still blue and twinkling, smilies down with an almost reverent glow. I was astonished. But the haze dod not last long as my dear mother laid another beating hand upon my face...the slap stinging. My cheek swelling and my eye beginning to lose focus.
I bow my head. A tear leaking from my eye. Whether it is from the slap or from sadness, is unknown to me. But I must keep strong. What would Liana do?
YOU ARE READING
Over the wall
FantasyCaierah was raised in the black and white city of Vlencia. Surrounded by a massive wall, with no idea for what lay beyond. The King was in desperate need for a son. To follow him in the throne, as his wife cannot bear. Sadly, that's to be Caierah. ...
