"The cold wind bit into her frail visage as Maska tried to rearrange her thick woollen scarves around her. It did not seem to help at all. The ice had perforated her skin all over and had started mating with her bones, making the memory of warm dressing rooms and long, protective fur coats a futile hope to cling onto. Had it only been a few weeks since they had been ordered to leave the castle, their home?
Maska remembered how it had looked as she was driven away by people she did not know, in a car she had never entered before. It was a simple little thing with no adornments or any kind of luxury. It had no warmth either. That had been the first time Maska had felt the cold creep up her spine and into her scalp, into her throat and into her heart.
Unable to shake this parasite, she walked back into the house. Seeking a moment of pause, she knew the guards would soon come fetch her and drag her outside with the rest of her family. Work had to be done. But how would any of them stand it? Maska remembered the many festivities her family had been a part of in their old life. How heavy the gowns were, how splendid the jewels and how delicious the food. Maska bit back tears of remembrance for fear of them turning into ice on her face. She could barely feel her feet and her hands, not to mention her nose. Maska walked to the small oven they had been given a few days after their arrival and began making a cup of hot water. Maska remembered the porcelain cups she had drunken her hot water with lemon and honey out of whenever she had been invited to tea by her father's mother, the greatest lady she had ever known. How knowledgeable she was and how witty! She had been the one that taught Maska what was proper and what not.
Her thoughts were irrecoverably disturbed by two young bearded soldiers who commanded her to return outside. Maska recognized one of them, but the other one must have arrived only a day ago and must been busy with other duties. She asked to rest a moment longer. The unknown soldier scoffed and breathed some insult in dialect, a string of words that Maska could not understand for the life in her. Nevertheless, the coarseness of his tongue made the delicate hairs on her arms stand straight.
Maska carefully lifted her eyes to plead with the guard she had seen before. She saw the same hunger in his eyes she always did. He made her uncomfortable in the most innocuous manner possible. With his eyes. Now they were silently battling, for warmth, for suppression of an improper fire, for comfort. The guard spoke, his deep voice a stark contrast to the other man's. Soothing with a hint of sensuality. Maska lowered her eyes and blushed. The water was boiling. The guards said nothing. Maska took it as a sign of their intention of doing nothing.
As she slowly sipped the scalding water, one of the soldiers left, leaving her alone with the one who still had his gaze fixed upon her. She tried smiling, but a smile would not come. Her expression would have turned into a monstrous grimace, so she abandoned it.
The man would not look away.
Maska hid her eyes, pretending to take another sip of her drink.
It was not proper, not proper at all."
E.
Sunday 17 March 2013
Friday 15 March 2013
The Train Station
Steam crept up from the halting train, hissing gleefully at the bystanders, the long-lost friends wrapped in their knitted scarves, the anxious mother waiting for her son, the lover dying to take his one and only into his strong arms again.
There she stood, amongst the people who knew nothing of it all, how she had missed this one for the last two years, when they had been apart. She had resigned herself to never seeing him again after the way things had ended, and yet, he had promised to be on that train, at that time; he had promised to come find her in this new life of hers.
The girl's heart jumped a mile when she thought she saw him in the windows, but the steam made it hard for her to see. All around her the people were gathering with the descending passengers, looking, finding, fleeing to one another.
An old, haunting indie song began playing in the distance.
The girl's eyes flickered from person to person and each time she established a new hope and killed it instantly.
Then,
there he was, his blond hair out of sorts, his eyes as kind as they had ever been. A swell of music was heard when their eyes met. They both shook their heads in delight. She covered her mouth to hide her needlessly goofy smile.
The embrace was long overdue, and yet nothing made it more worth it than those two years spent apart, and the indie song playing on repeat.
There she stood, amongst the people who knew nothing of it all, how she had missed this one for the last two years, when they had been apart. She had resigned herself to never seeing him again after the way things had ended, and yet, he had promised to be on that train, at that time; he had promised to come find her in this new life of hers.
The girl's heart jumped a mile when she thought she saw him in the windows, but the steam made it hard for her to see. All around her the people were gathering with the descending passengers, looking, finding, fleeing to one another.
An old, haunting indie song began playing in the distance.
The girl's eyes flickered from person to person and each time she established a new hope and killed it instantly.
Then,
there he was, his blond hair out of sorts, his eyes as kind as they had ever been. A swell of music was heard when their eyes met. They both shook their heads in delight. She covered her mouth to hide her needlessly goofy smile.
The embrace was long overdue, and yet nothing made it more worth it than those two years spent apart, and the indie song playing on repeat.
Friday 1 March 2013
Royal Purple (follows "The Court")
"She remembered the day she had first been presented at court. A blossom of youth she had been, delicate to look upon until she opened her mouth to speak out. Even then, her thoughts and opinions were not appreciated. Being fully aware of this, the young girl had devised an ingenious plan to mark her entrance into the world of nobles, the world of luxury, the world of kings, emperors, queens and empresses.
The royal family was long washed out, faded, reduced to clinging onto their void title and infertile lands with castles that barely stood. It was known. The king, demented by age, was hanging on grimly, as if death meant more pain instead of peace of mind. He refused to give in to the gout that had spread through his once-strong and admired legs, to give in to the forgetfulness that made him a laughing stock and to all the other diseases that plagued him. His wife, the Queen Consort, was a dried up flower, once beautiful and vivacious like a young sparrow in the spring time, now dragged down by the ever-demanding life at court. She no longer sat straight on the throne that had been carved with her name and title and she rarely ever attended jousts and feasts. The two sons they had given life to fared no better than the old couple. The first in line to the throne was loud and rash, a womanizing idiot who had inherited his father's thighs and passion for hunting. He was far more interested in making a good kill than preoccupying his young mind with the welfare of the kingdom that one day he would preside over. His younger brother had been born two months early and as a result, he was never right in the head. He preferred the company of dogs to the company of men. The adolescent boy seemed gentle enough, but there were times when the echo of his manic screams could be heard throughout the castle and beyond. The boy was either bursting with glee or sitting in his bed, weeping like a newborn. When asked why, he would point to the only window in his room. It was rumoured that a beautiful bride-to-be had once resided in that very same room. The night before her wedding to the then heir to the throne, she had donned her white gown and thrown herself to oblivion. It was prophesied that the young prince would one day be claimed by death the same way.
But he was not part of any of her plans for the future. She was going to make herself known to the capable members of the royal family and she was going to imprint her image in their minds forever. All she needed was to heed her arrogance and sweeten it with grace.
When announced, she remembered taking two steps, walking straight into the light, and pausing briefly before continuing her journey to be presented to the royal family. The crowd gasped at her insolence. Without wiping the seductive smirk from her face, the young lady advanced towards the thrones. The king, the queen and both their sons were as shocked as the rest of the onlookers, nobles and servants alike. She took a deep bow that lasted several seconds. Then she raised her eyes to look upon those who would soon become her kin. It was written in their faces.
No one had dared to wear purple, the colour of royalty, for 200 years. And yet, here she stood, clad in purple and gold from head to toe.
Instead of losing her head as many would have done, the lady rose to the highest honours of the country. Then, as promised by a wise woman she had once encountered in her travels through Hungary, the Lady became a Queen."
E.
The royal family was long washed out, faded, reduced to clinging onto their void title and infertile lands with castles that barely stood. It was known. The king, demented by age, was hanging on grimly, as if death meant more pain instead of peace of mind. He refused to give in to the gout that had spread through his once-strong and admired legs, to give in to the forgetfulness that made him a laughing stock and to all the other diseases that plagued him. His wife, the Queen Consort, was a dried up flower, once beautiful and vivacious like a young sparrow in the spring time, now dragged down by the ever-demanding life at court. She no longer sat straight on the throne that had been carved with her name and title and she rarely ever attended jousts and feasts. The two sons they had given life to fared no better than the old couple. The first in line to the throne was loud and rash, a womanizing idiot who had inherited his father's thighs and passion for hunting. He was far more interested in making a good kill than preoccupying his young mind with the welfare of the kingdom that one day he would preside over. His younger brother had been born two months early and as a result, he was never right in the head. He preferred the company of dogs to the company of men. The adolescent boy seemed gentle enough, but there were times when the echo of his manic screams could be heard throughout the castle and beyond. The boy was either bursting with glee or sitting in his bed, weeping like a newborn. When asked why, he would point to the only window in his room. It was rumoured that a beautiful bride-to-be had once resided in that very same room. The night before her wedding to the then heir to the throne, she had donned her white gown and thrown herself to oblivion. It was prophesied that the young prince would one day be claimed by death the same way.
But he was not part of any of her plans for the future. She was going to make herself known to the capable members of the royal family and she was going to imprint her image in their minds forever. All she needed was to heed her arrogance and sweeten it with grace.
When announced, she remembered taking two steps, walking straight into the light, and pausing briefly before continuing her journey to be presented to the royal family. The crowd gasped at her insolence. Without wiping the seductive smirk from her face, the young lady advanced towards the thrones. The king, the queen and both their sons were as shocked as the rest of the onlookers, nobles and servants alike. She took a deep bow that lasted several seconds. Then she raised her eyes to look upon those who would soon become her kin. It was written in their faces.
No one had dared to wear purple, the colour of royalty, for 200 years. And yet, here she stood, clad in purple and gold from head to toe.
Instead of losing her head as many would have done, the lady rose to the highest honours of the country. Then, as promised by a wise woman she had once encountered in her travels through Hungary, the Lady became a Queen."
E.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)