Apart

Chapter Two

The sun began to set, spilling an array of glimmering colors across the land. It was as if a tired old painter had set his brush down to rest, and stained the surface of his canvas with ink. Ashlyn gazed across that canvas from her balcony, with a sorrowful expression. The distant mountains stared back at her, their snowy peaks growing darker by the minute. The banquet approached.

"Ashlyn dear, it's time to leave," a voice said softly from behind her. Ashlyn turned to see Margaret, her frail old skin illuminated by the rays of diminishing sunlight.

"Do I have to?" Ashlyn sighed, her limbs suddenly growing weary and her eyelids drooping like sandbags. It hadn't occurred to Ashlyn that she would be so tired. Margaret embraced Ashlyn, wrapping her arms around the princess softly, and stroked her hair soothingly.

"There, there dear. You're a big girl now, and that means you can handle these kinds of things. I know that you dread The Banquet of Suitors, but being there will make your father happy. And besides, what are you now-eighteen?"

"Nineteen," Ashlyn corrected. She pulled away from Margaret's embrace, misery still clinging to her like a snake to its prey. A feeling of impending dread sat hard in her stomach as Ashlyn looked out across the balcony towards the large dome-shaped structure that marked the royal dining hall.

Soon the sun had set, and the time for the banquet had struck. The marble dome glowed feverously in the pale yellow light cast from a multitude of small gas lamps. Fireflies floated lazily above the crowds of people clustered in front of the hall, waiting for their moment to catch a glimpse of the royal kingdom families. The hall was surrounded by a thick shrubbery, each bush sprouting lush green leaves and plump, juicy berries. A laced pattern of golden paint wrapped its way around the building, providing a modern yet rich touch to the architecture.

Ashlyn peered at the scenery through the glass of a slim, elegant carriage. Its surface was glossy with a coat of fresh paint. As the tired old wheels moved the carriage bumpily down a narrow gravel path towards the dining hall, Daradai, who was seated next to Ashlyn, placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You look worried daughter." He spoke softly, though his voice was deep and rough. Ashlyn looked up at her father with pleading eyes.

"I suppose I am," she replied. "I fear that none of these princes will be right for me." Ashlyn spoke the words as if she was uncertain, though she already knew they were true.

"Fear not my daughter. We, the Follerfris, are a strong family. I met your mother at this banquet, and look at us now. We are perfect for each other."

"Speaking of mother, will she be attending?"

"Holly, unfortunately, cannot come. She has important business in the court to attend to."

Ashlyn sighed, overcome with sorrow. As a young girl, she had had a strong bond with her mother. Each day they would laugh, play, sing, and dance together. Her mother would bake cookies and fresh pies. Ashlyn would stuff her mouth full of the sweet, sticky pastries as her mother gently sang or read her a book. Life had been a fairytale for Ashlyn. Until she turned thirteen.

On Ashlyn's thirteenth birthday, her mother had told her, "Ashlyn dear, you are a teenager now and therefore you don't need me anymore. I won't be spending as much time with you. Instead, I will resume my position in court." Ashlyn's eyes had pooled with tears, here face flustered with red. That day, the strong tie that she had held with her mother grew frail.

The carriage rattled to a stop in front of the hall. Ashlyn stepped gingerly to the ground, ignoring the whispers that flew through the crowds like wind. She and her father strode to the entrance, guards following closely like shadows.