Secrets Uncovered

Father Returns

 

 

 

Two weeks after arriving

 

 

I wandered around my room in the midst of the morning light, the warm rays on my skin left goose bumps on my scabbed arms that opened slightly with small movements.  I walked past the tall mirror on my wall, cringing at the sight before me. My brown curls were in a matted mess on top of my head, my face looked like it was trampled on by thousands of horses; scratches and deep cuts lined my face, my right eye was swollen shut and had turned the color purple. My lip had also swollen up around a gash that split it in half. My arms were lacerated from the whips I had encountered, as the same with my legs; cut up like meat in the kitchen. I felt unnerved at the thought of seeing my father today, what would he say? How would I hide all the cuts and bruises I’ve acquired? This would not be a good day for me. My head whipped around to the door—opening up scabs around my neck as well—it slid open slightly. Amonost poked his head in through the crack and searched the room for sight of me. I glared at him from my place in front of the mirror. He recoiled in shock at my appearance but didn’t say anything, smart man.

 “Your servants are here my lady, please, don’t fight them. Your father is returning home and he has no information about what has been going on with you.” I glared at him harder making him slip out of the door in fright. I didn’t want to see my father, although he being here would mean I was allowed out of my chambers during the day, I still couldn’t get the torture Saeldir had told me about, how he had killed the man right in front of the girl he loved. But I also wanted to see Gwenyth, because of all the breaking sessions; I wasn’t allowed to see my little sister. They feared she would tell my father about everything that has happened, either out of fear for them, or fear of what father might do to me if he did find out I didn’t really know. The door swung open again, Lydia and Lyra were rushed in, linen cloth and shoes in their hands. My cheeks reddened with embarrassment, my friends were helping me change my clothes. They didn’t dare look at me until the door closed; Lyra’s eyes were the first to shoot up to me. The look of horror present in her brown eyes.

            “W-what happened?” she stammered drawing nearer to my face, touching the bruised parts and moving my face to look at my eye. I wanted to tell her everything, about how Caleb was probably still being beat in his cell, how my father had killed a man for having true love. But I knew that I couldn’t tell her it would only make things worse.

            “Never mind what happened to me, I apparently need to get ready for my father’s arrival.” She nodded as Lydia moved closer with the first pieces of the dress. It was white and less frilly than the other pieces, mainly because it was the bottom piece and no one would see it.

            “Go and put this on, we will wait out here until you’re ready.” I quickly ran into a curtain covered dressing room and put on the first part, it was snug at the waist but flared out at the bottom, the make shift top was strictly made for being underneath everything else. The next piece was a black color; it went over the white and sat on my hips, completely covering the white cloth underneath. A few short hours later—and a few dress pieces put on—it was finally finished. With a tight tug at the red and black laced corset around my torso Lydia sighed as she tied the crossed strings in the back.

            “This is a pretty dress, but a pain to get on.” Lyra said bringing over the shoes I was to wear. They were the same deep red color as the dress with black lace lining the tongue.

            “What about my wounds? Amonost said he didn’t know anything about them.” Lydia chuckled behind me as she tied the last knot into a bow,