:: Everything contained in this story is the writer's own imagination.::
She gently placed the reed basket on top of the parallel oaks roots protruding out of the brown loam soil and swept away heaps of sticks and old dried leaves to clear a small spot to sit down.
The sun is very speedy today' she thought. Silently swimming toward the west horizon and brightly illuminating the evil us. But now it was stuck in the middle of the sky as if the earthly escalator has ran out of fuel.
It was mid - day and as Granny Serda rests from cutting the Hoodia stems, she excitedly watched the marigolds blooming in the open sun. To her, the marigolds were like lovely children playing hide and seeks, heads peeking out from their hidings as they look out for others.
The feeling of boredom is always tough for a challenge. She muttered.
Not like yesterday though, today she remembered the book sitting in the reed basket beside her. It was one of the two books she grabbed from the library, the day she fled Panocreana's palace at the tender age of twenty.
She was an orphan already by then and since her father lost battle to asthma two years ago, she spent her leisure time in the library reading stories and statements in attempt to find out the mystery hidden in them. At the same time, fighting the sorrow left behind by her father.
One fortunate day, when she sneaked out of the palace to go to the library, she overheard the supposedly not - to - be - heard conversations about her between Captain Lio and Lord Gestino.
They were planning to have her killed.
Speechless. She was.
I'm such an unwanted human. She bitterly complimented herself that day.
---
She sadly smiled at the invading vivid memories of her past. The way she ran back to her bedroom and packed necessary things in the folded like - bag, dress. Boots, light dresses, a jersey and two knives she stole from the kitchen. She got out of her room and ran to her son's caretaker and carried him delicately in her arms.
'Where are you taking him princess?' The voice asked, disturbing her concentration. It was unmistakably familiar to her ears. In fact, it was one the voice she always heard calling her princess, filled with so much love and care. But now, it was like never before. Maybe his accent was the same, his pronunciation intact but the threat was there. In the word itself. Princess. It sounded so venomous. So taunting. And deadly.
'I am just going to change him. He wet himself. ' She answered, lifting her face, meeting his brown orbs.
'Alright. And you are carrying him so close to your gown like that? It might get wet too. You should have asked the maid princess.'
She couldn't understand him no more. Why? Why are you talking as if you care?
Slowly and almost unwanted, she took small step away from him. Giving him her small back to look at. Salty water was beginning to swell at the corners of her eyes which she furiously blinked them away.
'It doesn't matter. ' She stated softly.
'You see I'm mother. And as a mother you don't mind getting dirty because of your own child. Not only that, but we tend to share everything too. You cry when they cry. You are sick when they are. You share happiness, drinks and food,' she paused. In deep thoughts, trying to name the feeling tightening her chest.
' And pain too.'
---
Princess Serda went to collect her son's satchel and rushed to the room she never set in foot before. After she knocked and allowed in, she gently placed her son in the waiting hands of the owner of the room.
' I'm very sorry for invading your privacy cousin. '
'No need for apology princess. '
Princess? It was unheard of her cousin to call her princess.
Maybe it was because she was holding her son in her arms while - thinking about imaginary children of her own.
'Can you do me a favor?' She placed a hand lightly on her cousin's shoulder.
'What is it Serda?'
Serda. They were back at name calling again.
She abruptly stood up and stood close, in front of her not - so - friendly, unfertile cousin.
'Tell no one cousin, ' she began. ' That I will be gone for days to see the Living Lake.' Tears were beginning to cover her eyes, clouding her vision. For how long will you cry princess? She tried blinking them away but the stronger she tried, the tighter the ropes around her hearts get and the more the accompanying wave of pain concentrated around her heart.
'Patricia, this child is yours...... You..... are.....his -- mother. His -- true -- mother.. Do take care of him when I'm gone .' Her voice sounded raw with pain like someone igniting in the flames of fire.
'Take care of yourself too Patricia.'
'I will princess.... Go with God. '
---
Princess Serda watched out for the guards and maids as she sneaked out of the palace. Upon reaching the library, she grabbed her folded dress - bag and climbed on top of her horse, off into the wood until she reached the thickest part of the forest.
'It's done now best friend .' She told her horse.
' You will go home, isn't it? You know your friends are waiting you home. ' She sobbed. It was difficult not to in the forest she was in, with no one to talk to. To listen to.
But only the non - speaking horse which vigorously shook it's head as if it was disagreeing with her. It only made her cry harder.
She snaked her arm under its neck and placed her cheek on it, whispering, ' I will deeply miss you best friend. '
In nature, sometimes talking to non - speaking things is the best way to ease your pain. People might laugh at you, interrupt your talking and get exhausted of your blubbering and complaints, but non - talking things will listen to every noise you make, to all the words you whisper.
Trees will let you lean on them as you cry. The wind will shush you quite and silence of agony will lock you to sleep.
Nature has its own balance.
'You know the way back home, aren't you?' She bitterly chuckled and shifted away from her favourite animal. Moving away, creating a distance between the horse and her. She needed no more memories of it. Those good rides were enough.
' I am muttle -headed, am I not?
How do I expect you to answer me?' She muttered.
Lifting her dress -bag from the ground, she looked at it longingly.
'Please go back home.'
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