Hidden Among Crowns

The convent’s garden was usually quiet at this time of day. I stood on the stone steps, overlooking the apple orchard and herb gardens being doused in early morning sunshine. I smiled to myself; it would be another beautiful day, with lots of sunshine. My garden would grow nicely. Slowly walking down, a soft breeze carried the sweet scent of apple blossoms with it. Early in the morning, the other nuns were busy with prayer. I had been at the convent ever since I was ten years old. Now, being twenty-nine, I still wasn’t allowed to join the others in their prayers.

“A bastard like you doesn’t belong in our holy chapel,” the Mother Superior would snarl, her face contorted in disgust. I was already well accustomed to being alone most of the time. The garden was my kingdom, my refuge. It had always been that way.

Today, I wanted to tend to my herbs. Medicinal herbs, to be exact. I took great pride in all the plants that were under my care. I never felt out of place here.

“You do not judge, now do you?” I whispered, walking among the apple trees. The harvest would be good this year. Plump, juicy red apples hung heavy on the branches. I picked one and bit into it, humming in delight. Sweetness with a hint of something tart burst in my mouth. It was perfectly balanced. I took another bite, and another.

I was suddenly torn out of my bliss when one of the other nuns yelled behind me, “Hey! Faenrya! The Mother Superior wants to see you. Now!”

I turned around, seeing Catherine on the stone steps, looking annoyed. I sighed and made my way towards the convent again. My herbs would have to wait. I really wanted to get them watered before the harsh summer sun would make them wither.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised, climbing the stairs.

The Mother Superior’s office was dark and cold. In fact, each and every room in this building was dark and cold, no matter the season. Thick stone walls prevented any warmth from penetrating.

“Good morning. You called for me?” I asked as I closed the door to her office behind me. Her constantly displeased facial expression darkened even further as she took me in. I wore the same black-and-white garb as the other nuns. My head was covered by a veil, hiding the one feature that immediately gave my heritage away — my pointed ears.

“You will be sent back home,” she snarled.

I was dumbfounded. “Home?”

“Yes, home. The king has called for you. They are already here, waiting downstairs.”

“But I don’t understand—”

“What’s there not to understand? They brought a dress. Get changed and then leave.” She cut in, pointing towards a plain blue dress on her table.

I didn’t dare ask any more questions. Her anger was not to be provoked further. I picked up the dress, excused myself, and made my way towards my room. It was a small chamber, furnished only with a bed, a table, and a chair. A small window let in some light, but not much. I quickly changed clothes, pulling the dress over my white shift. I hadn’t worn a proper dress ever since arriving here.

I took a moment to take it in. It was a plain, light blue dress. The neckline stopped right at my neck. It was a bit too loose, but better than too tight. There weren’t any fancy details, only a string at the neckline to adjust it. I pulled it ever so slightly tighter. I still wore my veil. I had already lifted my hands when I stopped mid-motion.

They would know. They would see what I am, I thought. It made me anxious. How would they react? And who were they to begin with? I wasn’t given any information. I would find out, I thought, as I pulled the veil off. My light brown hair came free, falling down my shoulders onto my chest. Not sure what to do with it, I quickly brushed my hair and braided it, tying it with a string. It would have to do.

I sucked in a deep breath, readying myself for what was to come. Of course, I was nervous. This had been my life ever since I was ten. I grabbed the door handle but halted. I turned around one last time, taking in my small room that I had spent countless days in. There weren’t any good memories attached to it. All my favourites were in my garden.

My garden, I thought, suddenly sad that I couldn’t tend to it one last time. I sighed. It had to be done.

I left my room, walked down the corridors and stairs towards the exit. Nuns that passed by me stopped and stared — first at my dress, then my face, then my ears. A few who had never seen me without my veil gasped, realising what I was.

Outside, a plain carriage was waiting for me. On top sat an old man, looking bored. As he saw me approach, he hopped off and opened the door for me.

“Any luggage?” he asked, confused.

“No, just me,” I replied. I never had any possessions here, so there wasn’t anything to bring with me.

“Alright, get in.”

He waited until I was seated and closed the door.

The ride was shaky. Every root or stone that we drove over made me jump up and down. I felt sick, and my body was sore. We never took any breaks. I watched the scenery change. We drove through forests, fields, and even passed by a few cities.

“Oh, how wonderful,” I mumbled to myself, finally seeing the outside world again. There was so much I must have missed.

By the time the carriage finally stopped, it was dark outside. I had just drifted off when the door opened and the driver peeked inside.

“Alright, we’re here. Get out.”

I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up. Stumbling out of the carriage, I could see nothing but darkness.

“Where are we?” I asked, suddenly scared.

“Here. Cabin’s down the road. You’ll need it.” He shoved an old oil lantern into my hands.

“What do you mean? You can’t just leave me here,” I cried.

He had already closed the door and hopped onto his seat again. “Orders are orders,” he said as the carriage set into motion, leaving me behind in the dark.

I watched him disappear behind a corner, the sound of hooves slowly fading out. What remained was silence and darkness. The oil lantern did little to illuminate my surroundings. I could make out a thick, dense forest. I stared into it, my heart pounding in my chest. I was scared.

I saw a small path leading from where I stood into the forest. I knew that my old home was this way. I had lived in it until I was sent away. Memories from the past tried to crawl their way back into my consciousness. I pushed them down, not wanting to think about my mother.

I sucked in a deep breath and took a step forward. Then another, and another, until I slowly walked into the forest.

I moved my lantern left and right, trying to make out anything. The darkness warped even the smallest, most innocent-looking thing into a monster. The sound of a twig breaking made me gasp in shock; blood roared in my ears. I ran. Breathing heavily, I made my way towards the cabin. It must be there — I was sure of it.

What if it isn’t? an insidious voice inside my head asked.

“No, it has to be,” I tried to reassure myself. Twigs and branches tore at my dress. I didn’t have time to push them away gently; I was panicked. I needed to get out of here. In my mind, grotesque monsters chased me. I ran faster.

The forest suddenly opened up into a small clearing. I could make out the unmistakable silhouette of a house. Relief washed over me.

“Almost there!” I cried.

I crashed through the garden fence and up the steps to the house. I yanked on the door handle. It opened.

“Oh, thank you!”

I slammed the door behind me, locking all those made-up monsters out. I was safe. Breathing heavily, I took a moment to lean my forehead against the door until my frantically beating heart slowed down. Then I turned around, slowly swinging the lantern to illuminate the space.

Memories came crashing back from the time I had lived here. Everything still looked the same, as if frozen in time — the kitchen, the fireplace, the small table with two chairs. The whole cabin was covered in a thick layer of dust that made my nose itch.

To my right was the door that would lead to the bedroom. I halted in front of it, unsure if I even wanted to go in. I opened the door slowly, afraid of what I might see. But, of course, there was nothing there. Two beds, and a bedside table between them. But the air was different here, heavier. I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about it.

I closed the door again and made my way towards the fireplace. I wanted light. I wanted warmth. There were a few pieces of old firewood next to it. I put them inside. Remembering where we used to store matches, I looked in the kitchen, hoping they were still there, hoping they would still work. It took me a bit, but I managed to get the fire going.

Slowly, the cabin lit up. I held my hands towards the small flame, warming them. It had become quite cold outside. Soon, the fire reached a decent height. I relaxed a bit more now that I had a proper light source.

I thought about my day — how it had started in the convent’s garden and how it had ended, with me being back where I grew up. I didn’t know if I liked that. I yawned, suddenly feeling awfully tired. I looked back towards the bedroom door.

No, I don’t want to sleep there, I thought.

I decided to place one of the mattresses in front of the fireplace. Dropping it down, a cloud of dust rose up. I sneezed.

“I need to clean this mess tomorrow,” I said, sneezing once more.

Taking an old blanket and pillow, I closed the bedroom door again and placed them on top of the mattress. This would be my bed for now. I took off my worn brown leather boots. I threw another piece of wood into the fire and lay down. Watching the flames, I slowly drifted asleep.