Chapter 1
The environment around me was vague, eerie, and filled with much desperation. Cold air hit my face as if it were an insult. My midnight hair flew to the side with dandruff in it like stars, ruining the design which my mom worked so hard to make me look nice for the Grand Lady. A long line of worried unfortunate souls wrapped around this building, filled with desperation for the event happening inside. Point of being here? No reason except the stupidity of sexism, and the patriarchal monarch. I stood and waited for what felt like days, but only hours later we would finally be allowed in. By then, my heels had been so worn down by the gravel and dirt that filled the roads. Not our turn to come inside but still in line. I constantly adjusted my coat, for fear of freezing to death. The wind whipped and cracked, threatening to continuously ruin my attire. My skills have been worked on since I was young. Dancing, Archery, Juggling, Reading, and Reciting amongst a variety of other things. Many skills were recommended to be practiced by the palace over alternative talents but mother made me work on them all, for fear of my life and place in this village. The Grand Lady keeps asking about archery, yet no one knows except me. Continuously people refused to try, and accepted their fate… The Grand Lady is forced to chop their head off by the King’s orders. As I waited for a while in line I thought, what might happen to my sister or me? Our family was called on by the King’s order but she’s only fifteen. We approached as demanded. I curtsied with handfuls of my dress.
“You are a beautiful young lady. The King requests you to…” her voice trails away, and suddenly it returns with fear in it, you couldn’t see it on her face, but her voice quivered as she spoke.
“The King requests you to show us your talent of Archery, and he would like to see your capability to be a princess. The line parted to look at me, shock in countless eyes. My sister stepped forward but then the lady announced that I was supposed to do so. She was expected to tell jokes and juggle. Suddenly I remembered that the King’s daughter died recently. I was only fourteen, I still had time to be taught the anticipations of a princess. It seems as though he wanted my sister as a jester, of course, that would only happen if we pass. Mother glanced at me with a sheepish smile hiding the fact that she was terrified for me. Although I didn’t need her fear to substitute mine, once the Grand Lady spoke those words it was almost as if an anvil fell upon my shoulders. As I turned around they brought out the target, handed me a bow, and threw a quiver over my shoulder. I didn’t need to think. This was one of the few things I knew I could excel at. I had the confidence, I just needed to show them it. I adjusted my feet into position. My hands were shaking so badly one might think an earthquake was occurring beneath my feet. My body was facing away from the target, forcing me to turn, closed one of my eyes and pinched the string back towards my ear, with a deep exhale I let go of that string. Fear overwhelmed me but washed away as the arrow shot into the direct center of the target. “Another if you will,” I repeated each of these steps, slowly and carefully. The arrow went directly through my last. Everyone burst into applause, so I curtsied with fear and adrenaline running through my veins, no longer blood. The target was taken by knights just as more came in and they confiscated the bow from my hands with force. They then brought out a table and dressed it in tea wear quickly, at The Grand Lady’s word they stopped setting it up and I was forced into a seat at the tea table. Timidly sat up, I began adjusting my dress, feeling underdressed for this occasion. Dirt and grime decorating my dress due to the wind and kids outside kicking it up. I glanced behind me to see a shadow of a woman in a large dress. The Grand Lady yelled with certainty.
“Successfully eat a scone, drink tea, and conversate with this young lady. You may begin.” A woman approached in a large ball gown, as well her twinkling tiara. I began gently grabbing a scone with my stomach pleading for it.
“How have you been recently? The castle has been so very tiring.” I bit into the scone as she said this, a trap. She wanted me to speak with food in my mouth. She wanted to see if I had manners. I covered my mouth, finished eating, and responded.
“Truly. Much, much work has been dedicated to preparing for this event. I’ve been okay but I must know. What is your makeup routine? It’s truly beautiful.” I said. I was going to point out her hair, but then it would bring attention to mine, which was already destroyed due to the mischievous wind. I grabbed the plate beneath my cup, held the teacup handle, and sipped delicately.
“Nothing too fancy, just a bit of blending with turmeric on the eye, and rouge. Yours is just as beautiful though.” The princess lady responded. With women not being admitted to school, I think they believed I wouldn’t know who she is. One of The Northumbria Kingdom ladies in waiting. I must say The Wessex Kingdom is one of the most elegant and attractive though, with its bright green rolling hills and evergreen trees for miles. Being in The Mercia Kingdom it was normal to frequently travel, royalty or not.
“Oh, I do try, not always succeeding though!” We both let out a giggle and I thanked her for the half-hearted compliment. “
Time…is….up!” The lady’s smile melted off her face, she pushed back her hair, grimaced at me as she looked me up and down, and then continued to walk away. The shame overwhelmed me. That entire conversation was pretending, me pretending to be pretty or even remotely good enough to be in her presence. I didn’t care
“That was a job well done, but I know something else that wasn’t done well, your outfit.“ The Grand Lady let a sudden sharp exhale exit her mouth. She was insulting me. Unbelievable, that’s incredibly unprofessional.
“Did you even look at yourself in the mirror? It’s dastardly.” I couldn’t believe she let these putrid words fall out of her mouth. Then I realized it was another test.
“Thank you for the feedback, I’ll take it into account and do better next time,” I responded coolly.
“A letter will come in the mail establishing your position. Colette Jackson, please step up.” She announced and all I could do was sigh and wait with my mother on the side. It made me think of how I loved the name, Tempest, I’m happy I have it. Once Colete stepped up to be a few feet near the Grand Lady I could feel it. There was no chance she would pass this. It was completely rigged to fail her. She would be stuck homeless or worse. The Grand Lady called a Knight over and whispered into his ear. It seemed as though she didn’t want to do this but had to. Then she spoke.
“For your tasks, you have been asked to practice Juggling and joking.”
I thought I couldn’t get any more worried yet here I was. Sweat dribbled from my forehead like rain on a stormy night, I wished I could do something more, anything at all. Colette shook her head. My breathing fastened and fear struck me harder. I was kicked in the stomach by the thought that I might lose my sister, this was my chance to save her. Colette knew what her sentence would be if she refused her tasks, yet she still did. Then my sister turned her head to me.
“It’s not fair.” Her voice stung. Pain flowed with each one of the words, trying to warn me that what she was doing was my fault. No one elses. Mine.
“You get the chance to be a princess and I’m stuck with a jester? This system is unfair and…” She paused. Trying to think of the best way to describe this unjust system. She was right. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is sometimes.
“And rigged.” She spat the words at me. She was trying to put out a message before she died. One that went against the King. It was clear that Colette refused to think straight. Her head spun in circles just as mine did. Our emotions were the same but for different reasons. Our situations are completely different. Hands reached out from my body as I hoped I could snap Colette back to reality. Mother grabbed my arms and pulled them down towards my hips. I turned to Mother, her head shook with anger and caution. My sister’s tasks were repeated. She refused. She was warned of the fate she was sealing for herself like the lick of an envelope. She still refused. A knight asked her if she knew what she was doing. You could tell the fear in his eyes of the action he was about to be forced to do. Colette assured him. All I could do was stand and watch as Colette sealed her fate. Colette was forced onto her knees. She shut her eyes tight in hopes of the realization of what she had just done. The double-edged sword swung and took her head with it causing blood to spur across the room. Beautiful gowns, wigs, and faces stained. The knight’s polished armor was stained. Colette’s head rolled across the ground, to be directly in front of my feet. Her eyes were somehow now wide open. For eternity I could feel her face would be varnished horribly. This felt like her last message to me as if a whisper in my ear. Suddenly my hands jolted in front of my mouth as tears blinded me. If I screamed I would be next. It was an involuntary reaction. Collapsing to the floor, I moved my sister’s hair out of her eyes. My hands shook with panic and realization. She was a part of me, the only other person who knew me. A part that no one else could be and I couldn’t do anything. I moved my hands from my mouth and began weeping on the floor. My fingernails dug into my skin making fists. My hands started to bloody as I pounded the ground in fury. Mother wrapped her hand around my arm, and dug trenches in my shoulder which pulled me up. My face fell into her shoulder as I rose. My one singular thought was a promise. That my dear sister. . . will be avenged. Every step I take my anger and grief grows within me. Like a tree constantly going through photosynthesis. I didn’t want to leave. Why should I leave? My sister’s body would be cleaned up as if it were a chore, As if a kid’s mess that meant nothing. I refused to leave but my mother dragged me along as I kicked, pulled, and begged as if a toddler who hadn’t gotten the candy they wanted. my mother pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket. My tears were wiped but my anger could not be smudged. I got quite a few nasty looks on my way home, faces full of disdain warning me that this was “Unladylike, and I needed to stop.” Over the next few days, I cried and wrote. I wrote a plan. The only thing I could think of was Colette’s accepting look as she was decapitated. Mother gave me dinner and breakfast. I could feel her sorrow for me but I didn’t want it. Why was I important if Colette was gone? The only time I left my small room was to do my chores, not that I wanted to but I had to. I got mail, dusted, and swept. All while getting more stares. In town, our family began to have a presence.
