The War of Queens

Chapter 12

Sybil

 Sybil lay in the luxurious tub in one of the largest chambers of Westhall castle. It was almost twice as large as she was used to and her sisters were not even sharing them with her. All her senses were being attacked at once; her skin with the softness of the oiled water; her nose with the fresh citrus scent of those oils; her eyes with the beauty of the room; and on her tongue lay the taste of promise mixed with the lemon that enveloped her in the steam.

 “Would you have your hair washed, m’lady?” her handmaiden asked.

 “Yes, please,” she replied as graciously as she could. “There is a jar on the vanity table in my chambers. It’s a gift from Princess Evelyn.”

 It had been a surprise when Evelyn gave her the crème. At first, Sybil had not thought the princess did not like her, but a week after they arrived at the castle Evelyn had approached her. She had let Sybil touch her wonderful hair, feel how soft it was, and given her a jar of whatever it was she used. As the handmaiden lathered her hair, she could not help but let out a soft sigh.

 “It’s supposed to work for a while,” she told the servant. The girl quickly did a curtsey and shuffled out the door.

 Once she thought she was ready, she slid down so that her hair was under water, yet her face was above the surface. Her blue eyes searched the ceiling and the beautiful artwork that adorned it. Stories were told in the way the stone was carved and painted.

 She heard a muffled voice from above the water and grabbed the sides of the tub to elevate herself. The handmaiden then wrapped a towel around her and she was dried off quickly. Clothes had been laid out for her; she was to attend court today. It was only her third time to attend and she thought she would never get used to it.

 When she saw her mirage, however, all dreams of going to court were shattered. She screamed so loudly she feared the entire castle might hear.

 Her hair no longer had its usual auburn shade, which was only just a bit too bright for her own taste. No, it had gone so light it was almost orange. Her hand clasped around her mouth in horror as tears pressed forward.

 “Oh, my dear,” the handmaiden said.

 Sybil twirled around and glared at her. “What did you do?” she shouted.

 The handmaiden lifted her hands and back away. “Nothing, milady. Just as you told me, I took the crème the princess gave you, milady.”

 “Then why is my hair like this?”

 “I don’t know…”

 “Get out!” Sybil screamed. “Get out, get out. Get my sisters.” She needed Anne to help her and she needed Isabella to calm her, for in that moment, life seemed so unfair she might as well have just given up.

 Once the handmaiden had left, she let herself drop onto the bed, face down, her tears staining the beautiful silk sheets. By the time her sisters arrived, her sobs had fortunately calmed a little and she was able to speak.

 Anne was the first to enter, though she did not get far before she stopped, eyes wide in horror. Isabella took a moment longer but then she, too, stood stock-still.

 “What did you do?” Anne’s voice was frail when she finally spoke.

 “I don’t know,” Sybil said between involuntary gasps. “It just… happened.”

 “It can’t have just happened,” Anne pointed out, her voice cold and detached as though she did not care much.

 Sybil sobbed again, though not as violently this time. “I didn’t even wash my hair. I just used this… this crème the princess gave me as a gift. It was su-supposed to make my hair soft, but…”