The Blue Queen

Chapter 1

Red; that is the colour I was supposed to be. Using my lungs for the first time and seeing light I was to cry, be bright red until my mother held me. Her soft cream coloured skin was to soothe me until I calmed, settled in my place in the world. I was here and my destiny was already written amongst the stars. But no; I was born blue, dark, murky blue.

It has been believed for a few hundred years that if a baby girl was to be born blue she was broken. She was ever to be able to neither bare sons nor find a suitor. If not brain damaged she could be a maid to her family but her soul was still not healed for her spirit was said to have been tainted by the devil before she was born. Apparently I had sold my soul before I knew what one was.

While this theory has started to become old fashioned, it was confirmed in my father's heart when my mother died, two short days after I was born. My aunt who looked after me as my mother passed said I was only blue for a moment, but it was enough to break my mother's heart; and therefore, I was to blame.

Hope was still within the family, I have a sister, Elizabeth. While she was not a son she still had the ability to marry well. My father, an ex member of the Royal Council still had friends in high places, some with enough sons to allow a marriage with Elizabeth to ensure security for at least her. My aunt while slightly older than the average maiden married when I was eight; so my father, Elizabeth and I moved to Ireland.

While there was political tension still between my new homeland and my country of birth, my father could find work and hire help to teach me how to keep house. While yes, I only spoke my first words at two, I was not broken, I was taller than my sister and my hair was thicker. I daren't say these words however, it is not my place.

The staff hired was simply one woman, her name was Cara. She had been living off of selling Lavender for a few years before my father hired her. On Sundays she still sold some, saying it was a family tradition. She baked wonderful cakes for us and taught me how to mend and sew clothes. She spoke little about her family but she did say how she had many sisters. So when it came time for me to learn about how to care for not only the house but the people within the house, she taught me how to lay my sisters fine golden hair so it looked like lace. She taught me how to tighten my sister's corset twenty three different ways, some for appearance if the lace was to be shown, others in case I was to alter the shape of my sister.

My sister and I hardly spoke. She was taught every night by my father after work about how the world works, how she is to carry herself and how to read. Cara also taught me how to read as most people were to read the bible. Being blue however, my father never allowed it; it was said to be bad luck. So to give me something to read on Sundays she taught me some German, as her father taught her.

I was fourteen when Cara was dismissed. I missed her bright smile and fiery red hair; but I had learnt all I had to know. I was enough of a financial burden to be fed; I couldn't have a teacher also.

While I missed her, I had lots to distract myself with. I had to cook three times a day, clean, mend and wash clothes. I was to make one new gown for Elizabeth a month and three new shirts for my father. We were not poor; my father was now a merchant and we could afford staff, an entire team even. However I was a disgrace, we did not deserve staff for if I needed help I was brain damaged from birth. I had to be the staff to prove my worth. It is that or I would be placed in an asylum.

I remember what I made the night father told us we were moving back to England. Pigeon and game pie with quail egg to please him. He had been staring at me all night; apparently I resemble my mother so when he was staring at me I assumed it was because of this.

"The tenants of our old house have decided to move to the city. We are moving back to the house to be closer to London." He says simply as I pour him some ale. I sit at my place and look at my plate, not wanting to make eye contact with him.