Deep Curiosity

I. The Departure

“I am not a thing. I know so for sure. I may be bound by these chains but I am a free spirit and the skies are my witnesses. I cannot be bought by mere pieces of coins; I value—at least, I have to—myself above that. That is, people don’t see me as much.

Being born as a she, I am kept imprisoned. Expected to bear a breed of wonderful human beings, I am raised to be a worthy bride. I am my family’s pride and as fragile as that thing is, I can also become my family’s downfall. Yet, ironically, being a mere bride also saved the whole bloodline.” –Clairol du Monte’s Journal, 8th page

The sky looks bright today. Too bright for a late afternoon in a cold country as this. Fate sure deals her cards in a losing battle. Life is too cruel to even weep for her. She sighed as she looked at her room for the last time. This is where I’m going to part with my life as a child, she thought. She felt tears trickle down to her chin. Mama, I am afraid. What did I do to deserve this?

            “It’s time, m’lady. The master is waiting at the main hall for you.”

She didn’t notice the servant until she spoke. She must’ve missed her knocks. She stood and nodded solemnly. By this, will I still be able to live up to my declaration? The servant kept her head low but she can still hear her soft mewls of suffering. To her reflex, she went and embraced her. With this, the young maid finally released her cries of longing. Right, she is the only one closest to being my friend.

            “Farewell, Miss Clara. I hope your new groom treats you well.”

Treats me well. That is the least she could hope for. A man she is yet to meet…is going to accept her as his bride. She stepped back and looked at her, whispering, “I will come back, I promise.” A promise that they both know she can’t keep. With the distance she’s going to travel, she might not dare to come back empty-handed.

            “Promise me not, Miss Clara, but I know, someday, you will.”

With those words, she left her chambers as a woman of a rich lineage. She is not a thing but this is what she was born for. With the regal stride she was educated with, she walked towards where her father is. She looked at the painting hung on the wall. Some are too familiar while some she didn’t notice until now. She felt something wrench in her heart. She never really knew her home. She looked ahead and saw her father. It took her no time to notice the proud look he’s beholding her with.

            “Your carriage is ready, Claire.”

With a swift curtsy, she replied, “Yes, Papa.” She straightened, readying herself with the steel, cold eyes of a high general but instead, she met warm and affectionate ones of a father. She held back a sob as her father nodded and looked away. Always the silent one. He looked at her again and with unconcealed hesitations, reached for the side of her face. “I’m sorry for this, Claire. Your late grandmother, I know, wished well for your future. She never intended for your downfall, child. I just wished I knew of this quite sooner for you to meet that man.” She shook her head, “I understand, Papa. Grandmom will never have me married off to a scoundrel.” Despite her vulgarity, her father just sighed, “You’re so much alike with your mother.”

            “Sir? It is time.”

The both of them looked at the manor’s butler. Her father reached for both of her hands and squeezed them. Tears are evident in his eyes. One of his ladies will walk away, again…the only one left, too. “I will miss you, Papa.” He nodded and sighed, “More than you know, Claire.” With that, she gave him the last of her kisses to his right cheek and walked towards the manor’s main door where the waiting carriage is. Almost solemnly, her tears fell when the servants bowed at her departure. She looked at her father one last time. He nodded and her, too. She looked away only to see such sight.

            “Clara!”

And…she froze. With short labored breaths, a male of the same age arrived and clutched her elbows. His eyes were wet and begging. She swallowed and held her layers of skirt. He continued to look at her, panting and with such brazen stare. Alas, why do the heavens hate me so? She sighed as she looked away.

            “Are you sure about this, Clara? You know that I can protect you like how he can. I can promise you. Claire—please stay. Stay. Stay for me—for you.”

She turned to him and said, “A promise you shall keep, then. I cannot stay, Cyril. This is not the place for me. My future is in Blanilia, where the man who took me as his betrothed is. I will let you protect me as you have promised but I cannot, by any means, stay. I can’t take you with me, brother. The world—no—your world is bigger than mine.” His eyes are flooded with unshed tears as he stepped closer. “I’ll miss you.”

            “Cyril, you are my brother and I love you. That will never change, ‘kay?”

Their father arrived with a solemn face. “Claire, child. Cyril.” Cyril sighed and faced him, “You could’ve easily rejected the offer of betrothal, Father.” She closed her eyes and waited for her father’s come back but it never came. She opened them and turned to her older twin brother, who is being given a pat on the shoulder by her father.

            “Promise me you’ll come home immediately if he lays a hand on you.”

She couldn’t help but to smile through tears. Her brother, pampered and loved, is acting might and hard. She nodded, “Also, find your own love. You can’t marry me now.” He playfully glared, “I will still marry you if I can.” She gave out a soft giggle and held both of his cheeks. “Don’t disappoint me and find a lady for yourself. Love her more than your life, alright?” He nodded.

            “Take care, Cyril, Papa. I shall see you soon.”

With those words, she went and parted with the people she grew up with, knowing that the next time they see each other, she will not be the same again.

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            “In a week, huh?”

The man of early twenties clutched at his reins and looked ahead. Soon, though, soon.

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So, what do you think? Mind leaving a comment or two? Sorry for errors, though. Thank you for reading this unedited piece, anyway. Cheers!