The Annex

Chapter 4

I woke to the first rays of sunlight shining through the window. I had slept very little through the night and could practically feel the dark circles under my eyes. I had done nothing the day before to warrant it, but my body was sore as well. I found myself groaning as I sat up in my bed. I threw the quilt and my covers off of my legs as I swung them to the side of the bed. I wasn't having the most glorious start to my day. I slid my slippers on as I drew a robe over my shoulders. I closed my eyes as I sucked in a breath. Today was the day I would be picked up for initiation and induction into the Annex. I knew that Mother and Grandfather were up. I could hear their footsteps downstairs and hushed voices. Cracking open the door, I strained to pick up their conversation. Unable to hear anything I rubbed my eyes and headed toward the bathroom.

With my hands spaced evenly on the counter, I stared at my reflection. I searched my own eyes for courage, but all I could see was fear and uncertainty.

"You can do this," I murmured, trying to convince myself. I got ready for the day as I changed into a dress. On the surface, it appeared to be of an extremely simple design, however it was my favourite. Pale blue fabric that cascaded down. Hidden underneath, my mother had the tailor outfit the dress with trousers underneath, allowing for more freedom of movement. The fabric was thin enough that it didn't impair movement. It had held up swimmingly during sparring practices. Mother met me in the doorway to my room. She had in her hands a dark wooden box.

"This was to be your twenty-first birthday gift. But I think it is fitting to give it to you now. She lifted the lid of the box to present a necklace. Nestled in a bed of red silk was a silver pendant. The pendant itself was half the length of my palm and bore a single thorned rose. My mother's slender fingers swept across the stem to the top of the rose. She pinched the middle of the rose and drew back, revealing a small blade nestled in the stem.

"It's small, very small but it is sharp, and may come in handy," her finger moved toward the thorns. "I commissioned the black smith and the jeweller to work together. In two of the thorns you have a lock pick set, right here." She drew out to pins for lock picking and then sheathed them once more. "Here is a needle, Goddess forbid you ever need to sew any wounds." From a curved petal, she pulled out a small curved suture. "It's a survival kit, I suppose. And in honor of your father." Her eyebrows furrowed, a small valley forming between her brows. The emotion she was holding back like a raging river against a delicate dam. I pulled her in close to hug her tightly.

"Thank you, mother." I wiped away the single tear that had made its way down her cheek.

"He should have been here for your birthday, he should have been here for this. To give you advice, to help you, to protect you, he was stolen from us." I was shocked, seeing this slip of emotion regarding my father's death.

"That's why I have to do this mama, I am my father's daughter. I am a Vos. I have the right to participate in a claim for the throne. Imagine how much we could change, just like Father wanted."

"And that's what I'm afraid of most," pressing her temple to mine, we stayed silent, holding onto each other.

"Do you think he can see me now?"

"I'm not sure," she murmured as she ran her fingers through my hair. "We've got to do something about your hair." She pulled back from our embrace and grabbed my brush off of my dresser. "Come now." She motioned for me to sit on the stool. I plopped down as she began running the brush through my unruly bedhead. Her fingers adeptly swept my hair into an elegant coiffe sitting on top of my head. I had about four dozen pins stabbing into my scalp and I had winced as she had inserted every one, a poignant form of torture. Half of the pins in my hair were adorned with dainty pearls. Like stars, a stark contrast against my dark hair.