The Unwanted Princess

These eyes of mine

"What are you looking at, boy?" Heather barked, waiting impatiently for Cedar to take the burlap sack of almonds from his arms.

They were loading the wagon for delivery to town passing the sacks out of the storehouse and piling them high. Cedar snapped to attention and reached for the sack, launching it to the top of the pile in one smooth motion. He looked back across the yard before reaching for the next sack that Heather passed him.

Heather followed Cedar's gaze and saw Avery surrounded by the usual gaggle of children all laughing hysterically at some game they were playing.

"She's going to take a beating if she continues to avoid her chores," Heather growled.

He lifted a sack and Cedar accepted it keeping his gaze on the girl who refused to be a slave. She had done up her hair in complicated braids that pulled it from her face and kept it off her neck. The braids were so tight they only required one or two pins to stay in place, providing relief from the constant muggy heat. The style was so popular the women begged Avery to teach them how to recreate it and she spent hours in the night braiding hair even though it must have been agonizing for her raw and chafed dishwashing hands. A few men with long hair had even adopted the style.

"She's trouble, Cedar," Heather cautioned, his tone softer. "She's going to get herself killed and you need to make sure you're not around when that happens. Think of your daughter."

"I am thinking of her. I'm watching how much she adores River-Avery and how she's growing strong. Not in body, in spirit. Her mother didn't have that. That spark of life."

"Sparks attract attention. You need to keep Arnica away from Krastic's evil eye. Weak is good. Weak doesn't fetch a good price on the market. Weak doesn't make you a target."

Cedar sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Don't you ever get tired of just staying alive?"

Heather didn't respond but stopped working for a moment to watch the children at their game. "I tried freedom once. Those children are happier and healthier than I ever was when I was free." He bent and lifted another sack.

"How old were you when you were sold?" Cedar asked, accepting the sack.

"Three summers, maybe four. We were starving and I was underweight so Doc had to make a guess. I was old enough to remember my first meal here though. I never knew food could taste so good."

Avery let out a peel of laughter that rang across the yard and the children exploded into uncontrollable giggles.

"What happened to your mother, after she sold you?"

Heather shrugged. "Probably took the money and drank herself to death. I can't really blame her though; her options were limited."

Cedar cringed and kept silent as they finished up loading the wagon and he jumped down.

"She knows her letters, you know?"

Heather handed him a canteen of water. "Who, River-Avery?"

Cedar gulped the water and pointed with his chin. "Arnica. Avery's been teaching anyone who wants to learn. They build the letters out of sticks or scratch it in the sand, then wipe it away before anyone sees."

"She's going to get us all beaten," Heather growled. "I see that look in your eyes Cedar. I was a young man once. Don't fall for that girl. Her days are numbered and you know it."

Cedar was about to answer when Arnica noticed them watching and quickly ran up to him, throwing her arms up in the air. Cedar scooped her up and tossed her high, catching her deftly before hugging her close. In one hand she clutched a stick with a twirling flower on the end.