I spurred my mare, her silvery mane flying back as she galloped over the grass. Hoof beats pounded the ground, a second set gaining on me. I crouched lower and clutched her mane tighter, holding on for dear life. As much as bareback riding was a thrill, I could feel myself changing position every time my mare’s hooves met the earth and left it.
A hand clapped me on the back as Wynter’s gelding matched my mare’s stride.
“You’re losing your touch,” he said with a grin.
I grinned back at him and spurred her even harder, to no avail. She was running out of energy. I loosened my legs a bit and she slowed to a canter. Wynter slowed his steed as well and we turned our horses back to the stables.
As we sped past the gates on the way to the stables a shrill voice met my ears, causing me to yank my mare’s mane so she came to a grinding halt.
“Lavinia!” the voice scolded as its owner stormed toward me.
My mother clutched her skirts just high enough to not trip over the front. She ranted as she moved.
“How many times have I told you not to do this? It is dangerous. You could fall or be trampled or be stolen. And just look at the state you are in: leaves in your hair, dirt all over your skin. Haven’t I told you to get rid of that outfit? This is no way for a member of royalty to uphold herself.”
I huffed and dismounted, smoothing my clothing down as if that could make it more presentable. Patches covered the once white apron that was now a hideous shade of beige that matched the blouse I wore with it. A navy skirt hung to my calves, the length of a servant’s skirt and the corset could barely be called such. Of the same shade as the skirt it had no true support in it, laced loosely with mere string.
My mother moved her focus to Wynter and began to lecture him, “And you! As many times as I have to her I have told you to stop this. If something were to happen to her I would be forced to off the best animal master at my disposal.”
Wynter tugged at the collar of his green tunic then, ran a hand through his fire-kissed hair.
“She asked, milady, and it is my job to listen to the commands of the family,” he explained. He put on an innocent voice even though I knew he would have responded with a much sharper attitude had been anyone else.
My mother shook her head and gripped me by the wrist, “Wynter, please stable those horses and you, young lady, are going to Mauritia and getting cleaned up.”
I groaned as she dragged me along, pulling me through corridors until we came to the washroom. Mauritia and the others started to undress me and cleanse me. They plucked shrubbery from my hair and washed it with sickly sweet tonics. As they dried me and brushed out my chestnut hair I could feel the eyes of the serving girls drawn to my shoulder blade.
Their gazes burned red hot right where the mark was. The only one not looking was Mauritia and I knew that after this was over she would reproach them for it. I could hear a quiet hiss of gossip in one of the corners of the room, two younger girls were discussing my mark in hushed voices.
“Pandora’s Mark,” one said, “The mark of evil. She’s one to watch out for. All that hidden power, who knows what’s cookin’ in that mind o’ hers.”
I glimpsed one of the older women smacking the wrist of one of them, even though she herself had been looking at it just a moment ago.
Mauritia held out a garment for me to survey, even though they would be dressing me in it anyway. She offered a gentle smile as I nodded in approval, having barely looked at the item. My mother would have preferred I been here at dawn, beginning as early as possible to prepare for the All Souls Day feast tonight. At least that was what she called it. It was just a ploy to get suitors here for my siblings and I, as all her gatherings were.
My younger brother was already betrothed, even though he was merely thirteen years of age, not even a man grown. My eldest brother and second eldest sister were holding out to find a most pragmatic spouse. My youngest sister had been courting one lad for a while now but they were not yet betrothed. My second eldest brother had already married and left. And my eldest sister would make her appearance for the feast out of responsibility and then vanish for the rest of the night, a sworn maiden of the gods.
I attempted to force the thoughts of the impending event from my mind as they dressed me. They always started out well enough. Mother sat us next to who she and the court believed would most appeal to us and had the best influences or resources. The meal would be pleasant and then the tables would be cleared and moved so that the dancing would begin.
Then it started. Everyone would move about, dancing and socializing and then my partners would start to distance themselves. The tale of my mark always reached them in the end. And I always left the dance long before the night was over.
Other maids had scurried away, leaving Mauritia and my handmaid who had come in just a moment ago. Mauritia turned me to face the looking glass in the room and I sighed as I looked at myself. I was a dark beauty in the outfit. A fanciful dress of indigo and black that was slinky and clinging all around. It had long black sleeves with ruffled indigo cuffs and sheer ruffles across the top of my shoulders. The dress was low cut, baring the tops of my breasts but the back seemed high enough to shield my mark, the curling hair that tumbled across my shoulder assisted it. The fit lengthened my already long torso and legs.
I watched as the corset was laced tightly around my stomach. It was not even tied yet and I already wanted to yank it off my body. Mauritia fixed a strand of black pearls across my neck. In the dark colours my pale skin likened me to a corpse. As my handmaid finished tying my corset they smiled at me in the glass.
“Never has a sin been more lovely.”
