Chapter 1
Once upon a time, in a land called Chess, there was a forest, trees like sentries standing watch. A lake was cradled gently in a mountain’s strong arms at its edge. A town was located across the lake from the mountain, forever peering up at the castle perched on the mountain top. In this town, there was a girl. She was just like almost every other girl in her town, except for that she had even less money yet still found ways to be positive and not dwell in the dark pits of despair; for she knew that doing so would only hurt her more.
She was out from dawn to dusk searching for work. Her mother picked up and washed dirty laundry from those who could afford to waste money on some poor lady in the bad part of town. The washerwoman’s daughter, Adira, we shall call her, was a child small for her age. She was mocked for this, along with her shabby clothes and lack of shoes.
She was happy, however. She had a loving mother, a caring brother, and a sturdy if thoroughly patched roof over her head. Her clothes were well-worn, but that just made them more comfortable. The other children teased her, but her brother’s laugh brightened her day. She was bad off, sure, but she was happy. Hard work made stolen moments of leisure even more enjoyable. When she would look back on her childhood, she would remember nothing but contentment. She’d erase the torment from other children, instead remembering memories of her brother—splashing in the creek, rolling down hills, climbing trees.
Her mother, the washerwoman, was widowed when Adira was young. She searched for love again for a few years before abandoning hope of finding a man to replace the love of her life. She instead filled that hole with love for her children. She did whatever she could for them, often working long hours to delight them with a new toy, or a book.
For several years after she gave up hope of loving again, she met a man from the very best part of town. In fact, he wasn’t located in town, but instead resided on the mountain top inside the castle. He was the crown prince, the only son of the current king, who was a widower himself. The prince had never been in love before, but the moment the washerwoman arrived on the palace steps to return the now clean and neatly folded laundry, he was smitten. He saw how hard the washerwoman worked and knew that she would make a good wife. His name was Julius Borden Rosetti, but most everyone called him Borden. In time he would become the most feared person a certain girl named Adira would ever meet.
Years passed. Prince Borden married the washerwoman; the prince because he always got what he wanted, and Adira’s mother because she saw an opportunity to make her children’s lives better. In the beginning of their marriage, Prince Borden took no notice of her children. The merest nod towards acknowledgement he gave them was giving their mother money to buy them new clothes. The money didn’t come for free, of course. In exchange, the washerwoman had to be obedient and at his beck and call. He had her do the odd jobs even the servants refused to do. Adira’s mother didn’t actually care for the prince, and the prince only saw the woman as a tool to be harnessed.
The washerwoman tried to escape her toxic marriage several times, taking her children by their hands and fleeing when the sky was a deep black, stars strewn across it like spilled salt. She’d hide out in the monstrous cave in the towering mountain, thinking she was safe amongst its forbidding peaks and sharp edges. They’d last a few days before they once again grew so hungry that Adira’s mother would return them to the palace, believing that it was what was best for her children. After all, the prince couldn’t be nearly as bad as she remembered. He took them back each and every time. Adira can only speculate what would have happened if her mother decided not to return one of those times.
Adira’s mother began shaking uncontrollably whenever she thought of the prince. She started experiencing nightmares, Borden haunting her even in her dreams.
Adira never really knew what became of her mother; she just disappeared one day when Adira was on the brink of adolescence, leaving her and her brother alone with the twisted prince who stalked the halls. Right after it happened, Adira believed that her mother had withered up into dust. As she grew, her theories became more elaborate and mature. Her mother had been rescued by a kindly stranger, she had successfully run away, she’d been slaughtered by the prince amidst a violent fit of rage. Only when Adira reaches her late teens, having blossomed into a striking woman, does she develop a theory that she recognizes as the truth. Her mother killed herself to get away from the toxic clutches of Borden, no longer a prince, but a king, due to the unfortunate death of his father. This is when Borden’s eye snags on her, and she finally knows what her mother was experiencing. She probably had filled her apron with stones and jumped in the lake; a sentiment Adira can now share.
He haunts her every moment--both awake and asleep. There is no escape, though she desperately tries to in every way imaginable. His leering gazes and aggressive comments are scathing and cut her deeply. She has taken to hiding in the woods near the lake, in her own hidden space carved in the universe. It does not deter his advancements, yet so far he hasn’t managed to find her. There were several close encounters, but she always managed to evade capture.
The worst parts are the inescapable nights she must spend in the castle, the chill off the lake much too abrasive to spend nights near. Almost every night, Borden slips into her room, ready to begin another night of torment. He claws clumsily at her, choking her with his presence. She hardly dares to breathe lest he think she’s succumbing to his advancements, which will only fuel his drive further. She longs for her brother, deemed burdensome and worthless and cast aside like a worn out pair of boots. She longs for her mother, dead from her own hand. She longs for her childhood, too quickly grown out of. She wishes she could join her family with all of her being, yet she knows that that will never come true.
It really isn’t that hard to make yourself less beautiful. Adira hoped that once her beauty was gone, Borden’s interest in her would dim like the dying light of a candle. All it required was a knife from the kitchen and a moment of solitude to do it.
