More months past. Every day I would wander the gardens with Camille and teach her about the different types of flower, for she was interested in learning. I taught her about daisies, lilies, orchids and many other interesting plants that covered out grounds. I was relatively happy with my new family, as they were mostly kind to me. But then came that horrible time...
As I woke up that day, there was a sense of gloom in the air. It was as if the sun itself was sad. I walked to the breakfast table as usual, but my father wasn’t there. That was odd, but I paid no attention to it. I ate my breakfast as usual, enjoying the food and conversation. By the end of the meal, my father still was not there. I told myself it did not matter, he may be tired, sick or just lazy. But I still worried. I was halfway through my breakfast when I heard one of the servants scream. I ran straight to my father’s room and he was dead. His chest no longer moved, his brave heart no longer thumped. I don’t know how long I cried next to my father’s body.
My hair tangled with tears and rain as I stood next to my father’s grave as the priest conducted the ceremony. I collapsed to my knees and howled, crying until I could cry no more. My father, my loving father, was gone forever. Taken from me by god. Memories flashed through my mind, eating cake, running through the forest, playing chess. These things would never happen again, he was dead and cold in the ground, covered by soil, just like my mother had been. I prayed to God his soul would go to heaven and be forever forgiven for any sins. I had lost both mother and father, it left a gaping hole in my heart. No, it wasn't gaping. It was filled with pain, loss and suffering. My fathers grave was right next to my mothers, under the willow tree. They were together now, I hoped they were in a better place. I turned away from the grave in the cemetery and ran back towards the manor, not caring if it was a centimetre or a mile away. I ran until I could run no more. I eventually got to the house, shivering with my teeth chattering. Chantelle noticed how cold I was and stripped off my wet clothes. She lay me into my soft, warm bed, tucking me in and warming me up. She cried with me, for she had been in this house far longer than I, and knew my father well. She held me through the night, stopping my tears and helping me drift into sleep.
I woke up shivering the next morning. It felt like icicles had stabbed into my skin during the night. The painful memories of the night before sliced into my brain, making my tears come all the more. The sun was not up yet, and there was no moon. I was alone in the darkness, without a family. I tucked my knees under my chin and watched the sunrise through the thin slip in the curtains, seeing the colors splash across the horizon. The grit gathered in my eyes as I cried. The tears sank into my bed and dampened it.
I mourned my father for over a month, wearing only black and eating little. Nobody else felt the pain of loss like I did, every night just as I was about to feel better, something would remind me of him. The smell of a baking cake from the kitchen, the flash of a bird in the forest. These things widened the hole in my heart and made the loss more potent.
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Aurore le soleil: A Cinderella story.
Historical Fiction*Note: I am halfway through editing, so some names may be different, and some bit may not make sense. And the description sucks. Chapters that have been edited are the Prolouge and Chapter 1.* When Adele Courtwell has her baby, Aurore, it is her ult...
