King of the Woodlands

Chapter 1

Standing on her tip-toes, Lilibeth breathed in the fresh green smells of the forest, savoring the sunshine as it bathed her hair in pale gold light.

"Lilibeth Ciar Faren!" Esta shouted. She stood at the cottage's doorstep, leaving out forget-me-nots and sweet butter for the faeries. It was Calan Beannacht, the day that celebrated the coming of spring, but that meant the tithe to the Woodland King was coming soon. "The festivities begin in two hours, and I can't leave you out here alone like this."

Lilibeth ignored the maid, her bare feet buried in the damp grass, dancing to a song only she could hear.

"Lilibeth!" Esta snapped.

The young girl lifted her head, staring defiantly at the maid. Esta, like all of the villagers, thought Lilibeth was strange and sour, all the things you'd expect a young girl not to be. A proper young girl in Llewellenar embroidered or sang. She most certainly did not spend all her time barefoot in a forest.

And you see, Lilibeth was considered the family oddity (which the villagers loved to mock). All her family possessed crow-black hair, but young Lilibeth had hair like autumn leaves and dark mint eyes.

"Lilibeth, if I must remind you one more time, you'll go without supper tonight."

That was enough to send Lilibeth scampering inside.

✥

Her cottage was a dainty, whitewashed thing, a quaint little place straight out of Mother's old fairytales. It was wider than it was tall, with wrought-iron gates wrapped in vines and honeysuckle flowers.

Lilibeth squirmed with excitement as Esta sat her down on a stool, running a comb through her locks of dark, red copper colored hair.

"Lilibeth, must I remind you to sit still?" Esta snapped. "You squirm like a caterpillar."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't sit perfectly still. I'm not a statue. And I don't even like caterpillars anymore."

Esta rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. Lilibeth did too. She was very irritated with the maid's stiff, traditional nature. Why couldn't girls wear trousers and play the penny whistle like boys did? Why did girls have to smile and curtsy and act like dolls? She sighed, trying to turn her attention to something more positive.

Calan Beannacht was a mirthful day, a day where women let their hair down and children were allowed to scream as loud as they wanted. Lilibeth wondered what festivities the village elders had planned.

The door opened, and Father marched in, dressed in a homespun tunic and pine green trousers, pushing a wheelbarrow of turnips and pumpkins from the market. He was a merry fellow, the kind of person Lilibeth liked. In her opinion, happier people were funner, unlike the maid, who was stiff and stern.

Father began humming a little tune of his, knowing that Lilibeth couldn't resist the temptation to join in (our Lilibeth cannot carry a tune in a basket, but she enjoyed singing nonetheless). Soon enough they were both howling like rogues.

Esta huffed. "With all due respect, sir, must you encourage such behavior from a young girl? She's already contrary enough as it is. And so sour, like a glass of milk left in the sun for too long."

"Mind your behavior, young filly," Father said, pointing a mock-warning finger at Lilibeth, who was trying not to remove the garland of wildflowers that Esta had placed carefully on her head.