Aether

2. Strange man

I walked down one of the many corridors that the old manor held, small lights on both walls illuminated the path ahead of me. I had really gotten lucky, being saved by the butler, otherwise the shouting match that would have occurred, would have been heard at the lake. And that was quite a distance away. Most of the people who work for my step-mother used to work for my father. She was too incapable to find new people to attend to the manor and her needs, so they were all kept on after his death. Most of them know about her certain dislike towards me, the hate filled screaming that goes on between us should be enough to tip them off. Her anger is sometimes offloaded onto them, through threatening words and reduced pay, even though it's always directed at me. None are brave enough to stand up to her though, they're all too afraid of her retaliation.

Only Annie knows the worst of my step-mothers retaliation. She's the only one my step-mother trusts to keep it quiet. Annie knows that on the worst of days, my step-mother will enter my room and beat me till I can no longer feel my own back. Her instrument of choice; a whip. She tells me only animals need to be taught a lesson. There has only been one time when I felt brave enough to stand up to her. It was so long ago that I don't even remember what the beating was for, but afterwards I could barely stand. The pain in my back was searing. New bruises had formed by the morning. But I pushed through the pain to get up on my knees and turn to face her. My face filled with feigned strength to show her she didn't scare me. I remember saying; You're the animal that needs to be beat, and then I spat at her. My loathing eyes had matched her enraged ones for once. My punishment for the comment was waking up the next morning with no recollection of what had happened. Annie told me that when she came up into my room later that evening to attend to the slashes on my back, she saw me passed out on the floor with a giant red hand print plastered on my cheek. I remember her saying she had never been more scared for someone's life as she had in that moment. I remember little from that day, only what Annie had told me, and I'm glad as I could hardly look my step-mother in the eye for weeks after knowing what had happened.

I was nearing the front of the building, walking towards the front reception room, which I guessed was where the messenger was waiting. The small room was painted an ugly mustard green with portraits covering the walls. My step-mother and two step-sisters took centre stage, being the first portraits you see when entering the room. My father and myself were tucked away in the opposite corner only able to be seen when directly facing that corner. The only reason my father and I were even hanging on the walls was that my step-mother still liked to keep up appearances for her guests. They rarely left this reception room unless exiting the manor, so there was no need to have family mementos anywhere else. My eyes swept over the drab room and landed on a figure rising from a chair to greet me. He looked out of place in this stale room; His navy-blue suit sticking out like a sore thumb. So, this was the messenger. He didn't seem to be much taller than I was, only a couple of inches ahead of my 5 ft 7. I stepped forward to introduce myself but was cut off before I could.

"I bring a message from the castle." The man said already bored, his monotonous voice droning on. Looking down at his piece of paper that probably contained a script he would follow.

"Well, I hope so. Otherwise you would have wasted your time coming here. And surely we wouldn't want that right?" My mouth acting of its own accord before I could stop it. He looked up at me, mouth open slightly and eyebrows raised in shock. Then I realised what he said. "Wait, you're from the castle! What on earth would you be doing here?"

"Watch your mouth young lady, it would do you well to attend more to your manners than your other... hobbies" He trailed off, eyeing me up and down, making me feel self-conscious of what I was wearing- I'd forgotten to take off my dirty apron. It was my turn for my mouth to drop. He smirked. I huffed. His criticism was uncalled for, and what place does he think he has to say things like that to me. He was plain telling me off as if I was a child. "And yes, I am from the palace."

He pointed to a small pin resting upon his collar. The royal emblem. Crap. It was a bad move to talk to such high a ranking person the way I did.

"I apologise for my rude words. I didn't realise who you were." I mumbled. The shame written over my face. Hopefully, he would continue with his message and not call for someone more sophisticated to talk to. Heavens if he called for my step-mother. Wouldn't she just love to know how the step-daughter she painfully tried to admit was not hers, had bad mouthed a royal messenger. Oh, how that would tarnish her perfectly constructed image of perfection. That thought alone makes me want to continue in such a manner so it causes a scene, just to see the look of horror upon her face, but I stop myself as I was already in enough trouble as it was.

"Apology accepted. Now can I go on with my message?" He says sounding bored again. I nod, still embarrassed. He continued to read off his piece of paper. "Well, His Royal Highness Prince Nicolas is coming of age this month. They have proclaimed it he must find a suitable wife before he ascends the throne. King William is throwing a ball in a weeks' time in the hope that his son may find someone suitable to marry."

I didn't miss the way the man spoke as if the prince had no other alternative to his future. It was common knowledge that the prince was coming of age soon, but that was all anyone really knew about him. He barely left the outskirts of the castle walls; His father apparently had very strict rules when it came to his only son. I empathised with him sometimes; Never being allowed to leave his home, being kept under watchful eyes, freedom never truly in our grasp. We were so similar yet so different. I bet he's still a stuck-up little boy who thinks he's better than us commoners and for that reason won't show his face.

"All the eligible ladies in the Kingdom are invited to the ball and my records tell me that there are two eligible ladies in this household. Is that correct?" He motions for me to answer.

"Uh, yes," I clear my throat. "Yes, that correct."

"Great, now could you please give this envelope to the head of the house." He passes me a heavy envelope. It's smooth texture and golden colours makes it expensive and exotic in my hands. Of course, it's expensive Charlie, it's from the royal castle. This is probably what they used to wipe their behinds; Surely, they'd have even fancier paper to write on for themselves. "It contains all your important documents, including the tickets you must present at the entrance, a formal invite to the event and the theme. Please dress accordingly to the theme, otherwise on your arrival at the castle you will be asked to leave."

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you for your time. Have a nice day." He nods his head. And moves towards the door.

"You too." But by the time my words reach him, he is already walking over to where his horse is tied up. I watch him mount gracefully and trot off down the driveway till I can't see him anymore. He was a strange man.

The next chapter is here! dOnT FoRgEt tO CoMmEnT AnD VoTe ♡ Ceilidh