Faeted Lovers [Sample Only]

Chapter 3

"Why are you fussin'?" Dorkas pokes her head into my bedroom at the orphanage, "Putting all that red stuff on your face... stop that, you look ridiculous!"

"I need privacy!" I scream, holding up my hands, Dorkas rushes in and grabs my wrists, wrestling the blush out of my grip. It falls to the floor and she snatches it up before I can.

"Ahuh!" she holds it up out of my reach, she was a damn tall woman, "Who did you steal it from?"

"I bought that one with my own money!" I seriously did buy that one.

"No, I don't believe you girl, what are you doing right now?" Dorkas slowly holds it behind her while I stand with my arms crossed opposite my dresser, "Are you meeting a boy? Did you make a friend?"

"I'm getting married and leaving this place," I lie on this, raising a brow at her through the mirror.

"No, you're not –" she scoffs.

"Yes. I. Am. I met a soldier in the camp. He's name is Fredrick," I'd lie until I made it out the door, "I'm probably pregnant, too –"

"No," Dorkas shakes her head, pursing her lips, "You're lying... aren't you?"

"...would you like to meet my man?" I ask, raising my brow higher, "I'll bring him back!"

Dorkas lets out a strong exhale, her lips trembling with emotion, "W-well... you better. Yes. You better bring him here."

"Aye," I nod and turn, picking up my satchel and slinging it over my shoulder, "He's a fine soldier. Young and handsome with a nice voice. Blue eyes. Blonde hair... a tattoo on his shoulder... of a sword," I recount Vlaric's entire memory, which had been burned into my brain since last night.

"I've heard quite enough," Dorkas takes a few steps out of the room, flustered, "...my, my..." she disappears, whispering anxious thoughts to herself. She couldn't comprehend too much drama at once.

I look around my ground floor bedroom, one bed, one little table for a dresser and a cracked mirror to help me look presentable.

I'm wearing my jacket over a shirt, pants two sizes too big, tied with a man's belt at my smaller waist. I had to wear bigger pants that fit over my damn hips. I had fixed my hair into two piggy braids to hang down my back. My worn farmer's leather jacket had holes but it was comfortable enough.

I exit out of the back of the orphanage and I head towards the path through the forest, to the park at the base of the first hill.

The rotunda had a collapsed roof, the full creek, had eaten away at the base of it, so the wood was rotten and the whole thing was slanted.

The grass was too long all around here, waist length.

I strut my way forward, feeling confident enough after a restless sleep and rushed breakfast.

Once I've arrived, I sit on a willow branch over hanging the creek, now more of a river after all the rain we'd had.

My feet dangle and I put my satchel over a branch.

I get comfortable.

And I wait.

"...Vlaric..." I murmur his name on my lips.

For lack of a better way to describe the remainder of my day.

Vlaric doesn't show.

A few hours pass and it's midday and I'm starving. I wait a couple more hours after that and then I give up.

I get off the tree, my ass hurts, my feet feel numb and tears well in my eyes.

So, dreams were called dreams because of this, huh? It didn't exist. Dreams remained dreams. Reality remained as it were; cruel and unforgiving.