Dressed the Same
A woman languished under a cherry tree. Winter had come, so only dark branches lined the sky above. In a silken black dress, neither servant nor guard would come close to her.
The mad Lady Faymaine, the wife whose arrival had killed the man of the house, her would have been husband. Not one precisely knew where she'd come from. A signet ring returned proved her identity, but not solved the predicament.
The lord of the golden fox-tailed fields had not been in good health. Drifting inside and outside consciousness, when news of this strange fiance's arrival had come, the excitement caused his heart to break.
And in such array did she come, a floating carriage with wheels more of fire than metal, and a wicked little dragon pulling it. His tears spat upon the ground with a hiss. Her tear upon hearing of the lord's death was worse. A single droplet that froze black when it hit the ground. The shiny splotch still upon the front gravel of the mansion to this day.
"I knew I should have given my hand to the wizard," she said.
"And from this moment forever more I'll have gladness and peace!" Had cried the lord with his final breath.
Lady Faymaine had turned to go, but many arms encouraged her to stay, for the grieving of it. And so they had grieved, and now Lady Faymaine went to go.
But then there was a knight, he got on bended knee to offer her a ring. And look at the old advisor, giving her many rare books of sorcery for her just to stay. The stable boy, a man in age but still in training, gave her a few daffodils from the fields for a kiss.
The most surprising suitor was the cat. Or so the noisy cook would say. The black mangy one was neither truly owned by any person nor truly stray, with scars aplenty across his hide. He came in, all docile-like, to weave figure-eights around her feet.
The ring, the books, and the daffodils she denied. Yet, the cat was lifted into her arms.
"All of you have offered nothing of importance, not to a lady in black like me," she said. "But look, this cat is dressed the same. For him, I shall stay and mourn for a little while longer."
This, the lady languished under the cherry tree. A lettered stone beside her. And besides the cat, neither servant, guard, nor idler saw the day she finally did leave. But a few scorched marks upon the grass did those who looked find, as well as the mangy black cat filled with many yawns.
